Jacksboro Highway

Tinsy Eggleston rode a car bomb to Kingdom Come
Elmer Holliday laid in a shallow grave, he had to go away
Locals speaking of the Ringside Pub and the Dueces Club Keep voices low,
Little Chicago is Fort Worth you know
A five mile strip, the further you went the badder it’d get 7 nightclubs,
10 motor inns to get lost in Black book with cops’names and dollar signs Every
now and then one of them gets out of line
The Chief of Police and the DA are down Jacksboro Highway
Saw Sally Rand with an ostrich fan at a fireworks stand And the greasy spoon’s
upstairs room was packed at noon
High stakes poker games and slot machines Downstairs there’s no one there,
just empty chairs
Parking lot full to the break of day down Jacksboro highway
Chrome wheels of Oldsmobiles’trunks are filled With contraband so please don’t
tell Uncle Sam At the Tower Motel, they won’t tell what they sell
Word gets around, when a car explodes it shakes the ground
It’s funny how time slips away down Jacksboro Highway