Now Gail O’Riley was a peaceful folk,
Whose heart belonged in southern Missouri.
He lived with papa on the road “Grand Oak”,
Which he had to leave in a hurry.

Gail fled up North to New York City,
He left papa in the dust.
The reason for his leaving sure was a pity,
But good God, it was a must.

He was in deep trouble way down there,
And for that he had to bail.
What forced him away seems unfair,
Now here is the tale of Gail.

One gloomy autumn on Grand Oak street,
Gail decided to stroll around.
Papa stayed back, slaughtered the meat,
It was at home where he heard the sound.

A sound so loud and filled with fear,
It could knock a deaf man out.
Papa stepped outside, but stayed near,
To find what the ruckus was about.

When his shoe touched the dew of the untrimmed grass,
He realized what the sound had been.
With a shot and a scream, as it would seem,
Gail had commit the infamous sin.

There she lay, dead on the hay,
Her name was Carol Mcarry.
She ripped out Gail’s heart nine years ago,
And came back to say she was sorry.

Before she got out what she needed to say,
He shot her dead in her track
To make sure this time his heart was safe,
And that Carol would never come back.

Now Gail O’Riley was a peaceful man,
Never hurt a worm or bee.
Couldn’t slaughter a cow or harm a ham,
That’s how God made him, you see.

That’s why his call was surprising to all,
And why he needed to run.
He got in his car, and drove so far,
Away from the setting sun.

Never did he see he papa, or Grand Oak street again,
Of which he thought so highly.
Carol was gone, and with a car and a gun,
Began a new tale of Gail O’Riley.