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It was down in old Joe's barroom,
on a corner by the square,
the drinks were serves as usual,
and the same old crowd was there.
On my left stood Joe mcKennedy,
his eyes were bloodshot red,
he turned to the crowd around him,
these were the very words he said:
I went down to the St. James Infirmary,
I saw ma baby there,
streches out on a long white table,
so sweet, so cold, so fair.
Let her go, let her go, God bless her,
wherever she may be,
she could search this wide world over,
never find a man as sweet as me.
When I die,
please bury me in my high-topped Steton hat,
put a gold-piece in my watch-farb,
so the gang'll know i died standin' pat.
I want six gamblers to be my pall-bearers,
six women to sing me a song,
put a jazz band on my hears wagon,
to raise hell as we roll along.
Now that you heard my story,
I'll take another shot of booze,
and if anybody happens to ask you,
tell them I got those gambler's blues.
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