by REM: a stalker's anthem.

under his "Sun Kil Moon" guise he recorded GLENN TIPTON (Yes that One),Which includes the lines
"I buried my first victim when I was nineteen
Went through her bedroom and
the pockets of her jeans
And found her letters that said so many things
That really hurt me bad"
Also off the top of my head there was "Knoxville Girl" by the Louvin Brothers
"I picked a stick up off the ground and knocked that fair girl down.
She fell down on her bended knees for mercy she did cry,
Oh Willy dear don't kill me here, I'm unprepared to die,
She never spoke another word, I only beat her more,
Until the ground around me within her blood did flow."
Nick Cave recorded this as well. I Imagine a lot of Murder Ballads are written in first person singular too.
Had both songs on my mp4 and transcribed them from the songs

"I crossed the desert on a dining car
In the spring of ninety-one
I met some people drinking at the bar
They were laughing having fun
I told 'em that I hadn't heard the joke
That was so hilarious
They said that I was just a dumb cowpoke
I didn't want to make a fuss

CHORUS:
So I shot 'em down
One by one
Then I left 'em 'long the rails
I use my gun
Whenever kindness fails

The moon was in the sign of Scorpio
The sun was at my back
I didn't know how far the train would go
Until the law would find my track
I saw the brakeman and the engineer
Drinking wine and eating brie
I asked 'em who would brake and who would steer
They started pointing back at me

CHORUS

I only have a moment to explain
Just a chance to let you know
When it's time for you to board the train
There are two ways you can go
You can ride the wheels into the sun
Feel the wind upon your face
Or you can laugh into a loaded gun
And you'll likely loose your place

CHORUS

When I use my gun
That lonesome whistle wails"

Robert Earl Keen/When Kindness Fails.
I suspect the idea may not be 100% unrelated to a Roald Dahl story where similar outcomes follow the failure of kindness (or even politeness)

Every Breath You Take by The Police is another stalkers anthem, and sometimes bizarrely used as a "wedding song".

....0f Murder Ballads, whether trad arr, new in the style of trad arr or just arr. 3 for starters:
1. Hanged I will Be: (2nd mention this week) Albion Country Band
2. Molly Bond: Oysterband and
3. Where the Wild Roses Grow: Nick Cave (killer) and Kylie Minogue (killee), as I have just spotted, briefly alluded to above.

....cooper's "Killer" album of course. A classic too, BTW. Here's "Desperado".....

I'm a gambler and I'm a runner but you knew that when you layed down
I'm a picture of ugly stories I'm a killer and I'm a clown
Step into the street by sundown step into your last goodbye
You're a target just by living twenty dollars will make you die
I wear lace and I wear black leather my hands are lightning upon my gun
My shots are clean and my my shots are final my shots are deadly and when it's done
You're as stiff as my smoking barrel you're as dead as a desert night
You're a notch and I'm a legend you're at peace and I must hide
Tell me where the hell I'm going let my bones fall in the dust
Can't you hear that ghost that's calling as my colt begins to rust in the dust
I'm a killer I'm a clown I'm a priest that's gone to town

really put the food on the table by legging up telephone poles.

.... a singer in a rock'n'roll band.
Not under trades descriptions as defined in my house.
Talking of the Moody Blues and moving swiftly on to their spiritual heirs, Supertramp, I downloaded one of their songs this w/e. It was Breakfast in America. but it was performed by Gomez.
It was an improvement, but, as Paul Daniels says, not a lot.

....but "Jim Jones" sung by Steve Forbert or Bob Dylan fits into this category. For whatever crime, Jones is sentenced to be sent to Australia(common punishment in 19th century Britain)and vows to make the powers at be sorry. "They'll yet regret they sent Jim Jones in chains to Botany Bay".

Another in this category would be Steve Earle's "Billy Austin". He says it's an anti death penalty song.

My name is billy austin
Im twenty-nine years old
I was born in oklahoma
Quarter cherokee Im told
Dont remember oklahoma
Been so long since I left home
Seems like Ive always been in prison
Like Ive always been alone
Didnt mean to hurt nobody
Never thought Id cross that line
I held up a filling station
Like Id done a hundred times
The kid done like I told him
He lay face down on the floor
Guess Ill never know what made me
Turn and walk back through that door
The shot rang out like thunder
My ears rang like a bell
No one came runnin
So I called the cops myself
Took their time to get there
And I guess I coulda run
I knew I should be feeling something
But I never shed tear one
I didnt even make the papers
cause I only killed one man
But my trial was over quickly
And then the long hard wait began
Court appointed lawyer
Couldnt look me in the eye
He just stood up and closed his briefcase
When they sentenced me to die
Now my waitins over
As the final hour drags by
I aint about to tell you
That I dont deserve to die
But theres twenty-seven men here
Mostly black, brown and poor
Most of em are guilty
Who are you to say for sure?
So when the preacher comes to get me
And they shave off all my hair
Could you take that long walk with me
Knowing hell is waitin there
Could you pull that switch yourself sir
With a sure and steady hand
Could you still tell youself
That youre better than I am
My name is billy austin
Im twenty-nine years old
I was born in oklahoma
Quarter cherokee Im told

Nebraska/Bruce Springsteen is chokka therewith, most famously the title track, based loosely on the character in Badlands played by Martin Sheen.
(Which is sort of the opposite of Highway Patrolman, itself becoming the basis of a film, Sean Penn's Indian Runner)

as I first thought it seems. Another obvious one is Neil Young's (again)'Down by the River' - with him taking the guise of a cuckold who shoots his cheating woman. Neil seems rather drawn to such morbid tales.

Away from the morbid theme I guess Tina Turner is probably not really willing to do a saucy sashay just for you and say 'that'll do nicely' when offered American Express .

My my my Delilah - pa-da pa-ra pa-da-dum
Why why why Delilah - pa-da pa-ra pa-da-dum...

I saw the knife in my hand and she laughed no more!

by the venerable Mr Tom Jones?

Looking for a wee bit more cred I would've suggested Billy Austin by Steve Earle if someone hadn't got there first. However, another fave murder ballad is "King's Highway". Mr Earle's production mucker's Mrs (Siobhan Maher-Kennedy - former River City People singer, fact fans) does a splendid version on her "Immigrant Flower" album with mucho killing of men "just to watch them die"...

How about some 3rd party songs about the same to add to the delicious bleakness:
Excitable Boy/Warren Zevon
Pavanne/Richard and Linda Thompson to name but two favourites.
And is Hey Joe first or third person or both?

First We Take Manhattan and The Future spring to mind.

"Diane" is a good first person murder / rape ballad. Peter Gabriel's "Family Snapshot" is an assassin's tale, including one of my favourite lines of his
"If you don't get given, you learn to take,
And I will take you"
Big Black's "Things to do today" is a suitably unhinged take on a contract killer's day whose only problem is that he has to kill the target's dog..

Stealing down an alley on a cold dark night
I see a halo in the rain around the street light
I stop and look, and listen to the sound
As the raindrops penetrate the silence all around
Alone, I gaze into the glistening street
The distant thunder echoing my heartbeat
Urging me on to a secret goal
Away from the light from this lamp on a pole
So I turn, slip away into the rain
Drifting like a spirit through the shadows in the lane
Clutching the tools of my trade in my hand
An old box of matches and a gasoline can
Darkness envelopes the scene like a shroud
A veil of emptiness hangs from the clouds
Filling up the cracks in this desolate place
Cradled by the night in an icy embrace

Moving to the town like a ghost in the rain
A dim reflection in a dark window pane
Blackness beckons from every side
Creeping all around like an incoming tide
A broken window in an empty house
I slip inside and begin to douse
The whole place with the fuel that will feed the fire
And push back the night, taking me higher
On out of the darkness in a defeaning roar
The match in my hand is the key to the door
A simple turn of the wrist will suffice
To open a passage to paradise
I pause, I think about the past and the gloom
The smell of gasoline permeates the room
Everyone has a little secret he keeps
I light the fires while the city sleeps

(Like the 4th of July)

The match makes a graceful arc to the floor
And time stands still as I turn for the door
Which explodes in a fireball and throws me to the street
I hit the ground running with the flames at my feet
Reaching for the night which recoils from the fire
The raindrops hiss like a devilish choir
Dying in the flames with a terrible sound
Calling all the names of the sleepers all around
But then in the arms of the night, they lay
Their dreams sprout wings and fly away
Out of the houses in a gathering flock
Swarming overhead as I hurry down the block
I make my escape with the greatest of ease
And savor the darkness, drop to my knees
And the lightless window, my hand on the latch
I reach in my pocket, and pull out a match

(Like the 4th of July)

...songs that are written from the point of view of a distinctive character, rather than just in the 1st person - e.g. Swans - Why I Ate My Wife, which misleads by its failure to provide neither answers nor any kind of narrative.

Terrrell - Redneck Gigolo

Charlie Terrell's hard-drinking, womanising arsehole was clearly intended to be taken tongue in cheek, but he plays the part with such unfettered conviction, the song becomes a joyous, white trash anthem.

"I think you and I should go down by the seaside
pick up all the dead things on the beach
Ain't nothing but a washed-up world
you ain't nothing but a stupid girl
I think that's the way that life ougta be."

The Walkabouts - Sand & Gravel

Like a solemn, post apocalyptic White Rabbit, with lyrics that seem to be written from the perspective of a woman living in an area where there has been a nuclear explosion. The looped violins at the end, bring to mind circling vultures.

"Got bags of ash and worry stones,
buried by the fence.
And some army water from a can,
left over from the tests."

Saint Etienne - Relocate

Sarah Cracknell and David Essex duet that offers an unwanted glimpse into what it will be like if Andrew Lloyd Webber ever decides to write a musical based on the Channel Five property show - Build A New Life In The Country.

"Here we go over & over & over
you're talking about it again.
Let's move out, relocate
this place is in a state
let's buy a pig or a hen."

by Green On Red from Gas, Food, Lodging.
Dan Stuart wrote a few songs about killers but this is the only one in the first person I can think of.

I had me a wife, I had me some daughters.
I tried so hard, I never knew still waters.
Nothing to eat and nothing to drink.
Nothing for a man to do but sit around and think.
Nothing for a man to do but sit around and think.

Well, Im a thinkin and thinkin, till theres nothin I aint thunk.
Breathing in the stink, till finally I stunk.
It was at that time, I swear I lost my mind.
I started making plans to kill my own kind.
I started making plans to kill my own kind.

Come little daughter, I said to the youngest one,
Put your coat on, well have some fun.
Well go out to mountains, the one to explore.
Her face then lit up, I was standing by the door.
Her face then lit up, I was standing by the door.

Come little daughter, I will carry the lanterns.
Well go out tonight, well go to the caverns.
Well go out tonight, well go to the caves.
Kiss your mother goodnight and remember that God saves.
Kiss your mother goodnight and remember that God saves.

A led her to a hole, a deep black well.
I said make a wish, make sure and not tell and
Close youre eyes dear, and count to seven.
You know your papa loves you, good children go to heaven.
You know your papa loves you, good children go to heaven.

I gave her a push, I gave her a shove.
I pushed with all my might, I pushed with all my love.
I through my child into a bottomless pit.
She was screaming as she fell, but I never heard her hit.
She was screaming as she fell, but I never heard her hit.

Gather round boys to this tale that I tell.
You wanna know how to take a short trip to hell?
Its guarenteed to get your own place in hell.
Just take your lovely daughter and push her in the well.
Take your lovely daughter and throw her in the well.

Dont speak to me of lovers, with a broken heart.
You wanna know what can really tear you apart?
Im going out to the barn, will I never stop in pain?
Im going out to the barn, to hang myself in shame.

As done superbly by Elvis Costello c. Almost Blue, is a killer 'killer' song

Can Mary fry some fish, mama
I`m as hungry as can be
Oh lord, how I wish, mama
You could stop the baby cryin`
`Cause my head is killing me

I saw my ex again last night, mama
She was at the dance at Miller`s store
She was with that Jackie White, mama
I killed them both
And they`re buried under Jacob`s sycamore

You think I`m psycho don`t you mama
I didn`t mean to break your cup
You think I`m psycho don`t you mama
You better let `em lock me up

Oh, don`t hand me Johnny`s pup, mama
As I might squeeze him too tight
I`m havin` crazy dreams again, mama
So let me tell you `bout last night
I woke up in Johnny`s room, mama
Standing right there by his bed
With my hands around his throat, mama
Wishing both of us were dead

You think I`m psycho don`t you mama
I just killed Johnny`s pup
You think I`m psycho don`t you mama
You`d better let `em lock me up

Oh you recall that little girl, mama
I believe her name was Betty Clark
Oh don`t tell me that she`s dead, mama
`Cause I just saw her in the park
We were sitting on a bench, mama
Thinking of a game to play
Seems I was holding a wrench, mama
Then my mind just walked away

You think I`m psycho don`t you mama
I didn`t mean to break your cup
You think I`m psycho don`t you mama
Mama why don`t you get up?

has an excellent 'killer' song - 'King's Highway' from 1992's Short Man's Room album. Last verse is a belter;

I took the little that he had
Only as an afterthought
He wouldn't have to feel so bad
To think I killed him just because
He was passing through this town
And only 'cos he looked about right
Or he stopped when I flagged him down
On the King's Highway tonight

Leon Payne's Psycho is probably the greatest though.

As we don't have to stick to the murder theme how's about some of The Dresden Dolls stuff - First Orgasm, My Alcoholic Friends, Coin-Operated Boy.

Also Tom Waits Ol'55 and Martha in fact thinking about it aren't most off Closing Time first person ?

cannot think of any more while I'm at work and don't have the iPod to hand to give me any inspiriation

Pretty much all the Waitresses songs fall into this category, all sung by a woman (Patty Donahue) about her (imaginary) life but all written by a man (Chris Butler).

Another famous example is Johnny Cash "singing" "I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die" on Fulsom Prison Blues.

Bit of a tradition this whole singing from the viewpoint of a murderer thing, often goes together with 'issues' with their lover. Originates with the blues I imagine - the like of Leadbelly 'Where did you sleep last night?'. Tends to produce memorable lyrics anyway.