Bonnie Parker: [reading her poem]
You've heard the story of Jesse James
 Of how he lived and died
If you're still in need / Of something to read
 Here's the story of Bonnie and Clyde.
Now Bonnie and Clyde are the Barrow gang
 I'm sure you all have read  How they rob and steal
 And those who squeal Are usually found dyin' or dead.
They call them cold-hearted killers They say they are heartless and mean 
 But I say this with pride That I once knew Clyde  
When he was honest and upright and clean.
But the laws fooled around Kept takin' him down
And lockin' him up in a cell Till he said to me: "I'll never be free
 So I'll meet a few of them in Hell."
 If a policeman is killed in Dallas And they have no clue to guide
If they can't find a fiend They just wipe their slate clean
 And hang it on Bonnie and Clyde If they try to act like citizens
And rent them a nice little flat About the third night
They're invited to fight  By a sub-guns' rat-a-tat-tat.
Some day, they'll go down together  They'll bury them side by side
To a few, it'll be grief To the law, a relief
But it's death for Bonnie and Clyde.