Tommy was born by the railway tracks
He told his mama, he was never coming back
His papa died when he was nine
Too much whiskey, maybe too much wine
He took the highway down to Bakersfield
Two bottles of bourbon and a bottle of pills
Sawn off shotgun in his trunk
Two empty bottles, man he was drunk
He told the bank teller to give him the cash
Shot her in the chest with two shotgun blasts
Grabbed the money ran out the door
Mother of two children lying dead on the floor
Ran and jumped into his Cadillac
Threw the money and the shotgun into the back
He drove hard and fast went through a red light
With the cops on his tail driving into the night
He took a wrong turn onto Palmwood Drive
He didn't care if he was dead or alive
Cops were waiting like he knew they would
Got out of his car and there he stood
Bullets were flying, screaming past his head
Pretty soon he knew he would be dead
His life flashed before his very eyes
Remembering all the hurt and those dirty lies
Tommy was born by the railway tracks
He told his mama, he was never coming back