Gangster of The Night

It was a cold, Chicago night.
The year was 1947.
There was barely any light in the club.
Women on stage dancing as they lift up their skirts and flirt.
Men sitting down as they are laughing and having a good time.
Siting there was him.
He, sat at the far end of the bar.
He, had one drink in his hand and cigar in another.
He, blew smoke in the air as he saw they were there to take him away.
But, he didn't care he threw his cigar as he escaped through the window.
He ran down the stairs until one of them got a pistol and pointed it at him.
But, the man was more slick than he was,
He shot him and ran down the stairs as he made his way to his get away car.
He shoots to kill,
He's never paid the bill,
He'll never change,
He's the gangster of the night.
He's out for the fight,
He has the will to kill a man.
Mother, was never there
Father, didn't raise him right.
He was never all that bright.
He steals,
He kills,
He's never real.
This man thinks he's so cool and smooth.
Him and his crew wear blue and black suits,
Black fedoras, silk ties that they probably didn't even buy.
His feet beat against the ground as he's running for his life.
He thinks he's so slick to step out on his wife.
He's lucky she didn't put that knife deeper into his heart.
He takes the easy way out every time.
Man, thinks he's so tough being so rough.
He thinks he's such a man sleeping with all the pretty women,
Killing all the good men,
Running away from the police.
He shoots to kill,
He's never paid the bill,
He'll never change,
He's the gangster of the night.