There's a home in Indiana,
where once was shared great joy.
When parents loved and worshipped
their curly -headed boy,
Was very soon decided
he'd take his father's name,
And following his footsteps,
they wished on him great fame.
His son grew into manhood
and started out to roam.
And much against his parents,
he left his friends and home.
He journeyed through the city,
to him fate did resign.
His son led to his downfall,
he committed his first crime.
The law was sun upon him,
he landed up in jail.
His friends could not get pardon,
nor could they go his bail.
One night he broke for freedom
by using a wooden gun.
His guard was easily buffaloed,
his clever trick had won.
And then began the manhunt,
the greatest ever known.
With plots and plans to trap him,
with brains and skill were shown.
His draw was fast as lightning,
rewards stood on his head.
Go bring in this great criminal,
whether he be alive or dead.
It happened in Chicago,
thus noted for its fame.
The home of noted gangsters,
where many a man is slain.
He was taking in a picture,
when a woman tipped the law.
Three bullets pierced his body,
he had not a chance to draw.
The great man hunt is ended,
the innocent must pay.
When they have to stop the bullets,
that chance to go astray.
So young men take my warning,
this crime it does not pay.
And think of Johnny Dillinger,
when he met his fatal day.