It Could Be This Mornin’ Jessy James rode the winding outlaw trail. He lived life free, never had to make bail. He stoked up a myth that he gave to the poor. He was a cold bloody killer, not much more. He was loved by many and spurned by some. They point to his picture, say he’s the one. Under his pillow, he keeps a loaded gun. It could be this mornin’, it won’t come. I ain’t no bandit, but I’ve been in a jail. can’t be s bad guy, because I know I’ll fail. Sometimes sweet revenge was music to my ear. Looking for happiness, I’m chasing my despair. I get an abiding feelin’, my time is done. My dreams have been dreamed, my spinnin’ is spun. Sometimes in the night, I think I will succumb. It could be this mornin’, it won’t come.
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