St. James Infirmary

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Rob Getzschman

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It was down at old Joe's barroom
At the corner of the square
The was servin' drinks as usual
And the usual crowd was there

On my left stood Big Joe McKennedy
And his eyes was bloodshot red
Well, he turned to the crowd around him
These are the very words he said

I went down to that old St. James Infirmary
I saw my baby there
She was stretched out on a long, white table
She was so fine, so cold, so fair

Let her go, let her go, God bless her
Wherever she may be
She may search this wide world over
Never find a sweeter man like me

When I die, won't you bury me
In my high-top Stetson hat
Put a twenty-dollar goldpiece on my watch chain
So the gang'll know I died standin' pat

Yeah, I want six crap-shooters for pallbearers
A chorus girl to sing me a song
Put a jazz band on my hearse wagon
Raise hell as I roll along

Get out your rubber-tired carriage
Get out your old-time hat
Because there's twelve men goin' to the graveyard
And eleven coming back

Now that I've told you my story
I think I'll have another shot of booze
And if anyone should happen to ask you
You know I got those gambler's blues

Let her go, let her go, God bless her
Wherever she may be
She may search this wide world over
Never find a sweeter man like me

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