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American Ballads and Folk Songs_____________^
There sits the jury, a devil of a crew,
They will look the poor prisoner through and through.
Your privileges they will take, your clothes they will sell, Get drunk on the money, Goddam 'em to Hell.
And here's to the sheriff, I like to forgot,
He's the biggest old rascal we have in the lot.
And now I have come to the end of my song; I'll leave it to the boys as I go along.
As to gamblin' and stealin', I never shall fail, And I don't give a damn for lyin' in jail.
They'll send us away for a year or two, For makin' a barrel of mountain dew.
PO' BOY*
Another fragment of "The Cryderville Jail." |
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