THE STORY OF BLACKIE AND LITTLE ONE

I’ve got a story
A story I want to tell
Of a couple of gangsters
Chicago - is where they dwelled

The boss man was named Blackie
And was as mean as they would come
His sidekick was called Little One
Everyone thought he was dumb

Blackie planned to steal the gold
While in transit one fine day
They pulled it off without a hitch
Cuz' he and Little One got away

They went up to Wisconsin
To the northern woods to hide
They’d lay low for the winter
Away from prying eyes

They dragged their crate of shinny stuff
And placed it in a pond
And soon the pond froze over
The gold would not be found

As they walked back to the cabin
Blackie yelled in all his pride
His proclamation of arrogance
To the wilderness he cried

“I’m too smart for them
No one knows I’m here
I got away with the perfect crime
I truly have no peers”

“I could hide out here forever
They’ll never find me here
And the story of my perfect crime
Will be told for many years”

The days grew short with winter
And Blackie’s meanness flared
He took it out on Little One
Cuz' there was no one else to share

And on one cold December morning
Blackie screamed - where Blackie stood
“Get up and fix me some breakfast
And go out and cut some firewood”

Little One stood up and grabbed his ax
To greet the winter cold
But he stopped - and turned - and faced Blackie
He didn’t do what he was told

Bloodied footsteps in the snow
Led the way back to the pond
Where Little One hacked a hole in the ice
And pulled up what could not be found

He emptied out the container
Of all the shinny stuff
And replaced it with the body parts
Of his boss who talked so tough

As he pushed Blackie back in the hole
He could hear the eagle cry
Those echoed words once yelled by Blackie
His proclamation of pride

“I’m too smart for them
No one knows I’m here
I got away with the perfect crime
I truly have no peers”

“I’ll hide out here forever
They’ll never find me here
And the story of the perfect crime
Will be told for many years – many years”

I’ve got a story
A story I want to tell
Of a couple of gangsters
Chicago - is where they dwelled

The boss man was named Blackie
And was as mean as they would come
His sidekick was called Little One
Everyone thought he was dumb

Now Little One sits comfortably
Under the warm Mexican sun
Sipping on his tequila
He ponders what he has done

A smile appears upon his face
And those words spin in his head
The words once owned by Blackie
Are now Little One’s instead

“I’m too smart for them
No one knows I’m here
I got away with the perfect crime
I truly have no peers”

“I’ll hide out here forever
And they’ll never find me here
And my story of my perfect crime
I will sing for many – many years”

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