Classic Poem

It was down in old Joe's bar-room —
On a corner by the square,
The drinks were served as usual,
And a goodly crowd was there. On my blues.

2

On my left stood Joe McKenny,
His eyes bloodshot and red,
He gazed at the crowd around him
And these were the words he said:

3

" As I passed by the old infirmary,
I saw my sweetheart there,
All stretched out on a table,
So pale, so cold, so fair.

4

Went up to see the doctor,
" She's very low," he said;
Went back to see my woman,
Good God! She's layin' there dead,
Spoken: She's dead!

5

Sixteen coal-black horses,
All hitched to a rubber-tired hack,
Carried seven girls to the graveyard,
And only six of 'em comin' back.

6

O, when I die, just bury me
In a box-back coat and hat,
Put a twenty dollar gold piece on my watch chain
To let the Lord know I'm standing pat.

7

Six crap shooters as pall bearers,
Let a chorus girl sing me a song
With a jazz band on my hearse
To raise hell as we go along.

8

And now you've heard my story,
I'll take another shot of booze;
If anybody happens to ask you,
Then I've got those gambler's blues. "

1

It was down in old Joe's bar-room
On a corner by the square,
The drinks were served as usual,
And a goodly crowd was there.

2

On my left stood Joe McKenny,
His eyes bloodshot and red,
He gazed at the crowd around him
And these are the words he said:

3

" As I passed by the old infirmary,
I saw my sweetheart there,
All stretched out on a table,
So pale, so cold, so fair.

4

Sixteen coal-block horses,
All hitched to a rubber-tired hack,
Carried seven girls to the graveyard,
And only six of 'em comin' back.

5

O, when I die, just bury me chain
In a box-back coat and hat,
Put a twenty dollar gold piece on my watch
To let the Lord know I'm standin' pat.

6

Six crap shooters as pall bearers,
Let a chorus girl sing me a song
With a jazz band on my hearse
To raise hell as we go along. "

7

And now you've heard my story,
I'll take another shot o' booze;
If anybody happens to ask you,
Then I've got those gambler's blues.