The Outlaw

This song was written by Jay Bolotin
It is on Dan Fogelberg's "High Country Snows" album released 1985-I have this CD
This album was a seminal part of Progressive Bluegrass, or "Newgrass", and featured many bluegrass star players
Dan Fogelberg – lead vocals, acoustic guitar, harmony vocals, electric guitar
Jerry Douglas – dobro
David Grisman – mandolin
Emory Gordy Jr. – bass
Russ Kunkel – drums
Jim Buchanan – fiddle
Herb Pedersen – banjo
Producers – Dan Fogelberg and Marty Lewis
Engineers – J.T. Cantwell, Terry Christian and Marty Lewis
Recorded at The Bennett House (Franklin, TN)-I will post a picture below this post showing Dan and the rest of them at the Bennett House
Mixed at Sunset Sound (Los Angeles, CA)
Mastered by George Marino at Sterling Sound (New York, NY)
Art Direction and Design – Ron Larson and John Kosh
Photography – Joel Bernstein

Among the possessions of an outlaw of a low class kind
Is this little bottle of French perfume
Taken as a last thought from a drug store in suburbia
He said lady look what I’ve got for you
She said Jesse I don’t hardly even know you anymore
And judging from your grin, you’d think you held up Henry Ford
And I don’t believe I want you a coming ‘round here anymore, ooh ooh

Jesse he was hurt boy, and he left there, and he slammed the door
And he wandered through the alleyways
Thinkin’ all the while that she’d be proud of what he stole for her
And he tried to think of better ways
Dreamin’ of a movie that he’d seen one afternoon
He drew out all his savings and he went and bought a gun
And he ran right home and stood before his mirror
Acting like a thug, ooh ooh

He waited for a dark night, he was frightened, boy the fog rolled in
And a rich man, he came walkin’ by
Hold your hands up high, he cried
I’ve come to make your fortune mine
But his eyes, they gave him right away,
Jesse dropped the gun and they both stared at a where it lay
And Jesse asked the man if he’d please leave him in his pain
And the man tried to forgive him, but there’s not much he could say, ooh ooh

Among the possessions of an outlaw of a low class kind
Is this little bottle of French perfume
Taken as a last thought from a drugstore in suburbia
He said lady look what I’ve got for you
Ah take it, ah please take it, I am tired and I am poor
And this crappy French perfume is nothin’ less than my own soul
I was feelin’ half a man, I wanted to feel whole, ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh

~~~ Jay Bolotin ~~~