Lyrics

Charlie was an intern in MacDonald's kitchen
He was starting' to learn how to fry.
He'd come home from work to his television
Seein' black and white gangsters
Those getaway pranksters
Masterminds and jocks
And the money they copped
Charlie figured he'd give it a try
Robin Hood made robbin' good
Arthur Floyd made it look easy
Some were all heart
Some made it an art
But bank robbin' ain't the party it used to be.

First National City Savings and Loan
Has larceny in its blood
The corporate crooks' legitimate home
Asylum for heavy-betters
With kinfolk directors
E Pluribus suckers
Greedy brother hucksters
Guarded by Pinkerton thugs....
Robin Hood made robbin' good
Dillinger made it look easy
Some were all heart
Some made it an art
But bank robbin' ain't the party it used to be.

With guts spurred by starch, cheap wine and downers
Charlie's balance and his body were thin
With a loaded grin he walked up to the counter
Disguised as a skeleton
With a toy gun to help him
A system victim
With a definite coniviction
That a man must take or be taken...
Chances are and chances be
But poor folks' odds are uneven
More often than not
Life is a longshot
And death is the only sure freedom

But some wine must find the bottom of its barrel
Revolving in mercy's holster
And sometimes the lines drawn darkest are narrow...
The bank foiled his crime
It blew Charlie's mind
Among the first to be there on an anniversary
They sent him home with a toaster...!
and
Robin Hood made robbin' good
The Barrows made it look easy
Some were all heart
Some made it an art
But bank robbin' ain't the party it used to be.

Robin Hood made robbin' good
Nixon made it a mockery
Some had no heart
Some had no art
Robbin' ain't the party it used to be.