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I'm a roving gambler,
And I gamble down in town. Whenever I meet with a deck of cards, I lay my money down, Boys,I lay my money down I've gambled up in Washington, Gambled down in Maine, I'm on my way to Georgia To knock down my last game, Boys, knock down my last game. Well, I had not been in Washington, Many more weeks than three, When I fell in love with a pretty Little girl, And she fell in love with me. And she fell in love with me. She took me in her parlor, She cooled me with her fan, She whispered low in her mama's ear, "I love this gamblin' man, Ma, I love this gamblin' man." "Well, daughter, my dear daughter, How can you treat me so, To leave your poor old mama, And with this gambler go, And with this gambler go?" "Well, mama, my dear mama, You know I love you well, But the love I hold for a gamblin' Man No human tongue can tell, Ma, no human tongue can tell. "I'd never marry a farmer, He's always in the rain. I'd rather marry a gamblin' man With a big gold watch and chain, Ma, big gold watch and chain. "And I'd never marry a railroad man, The reason I'll tell you why, Never did see a railroad man Who wouldn't tell his wife a lie, Ma, wouldn't tell his wife a lie. "I hear the train a-comin', Comin' around the curve, Whistling and a-blowin' And a-strainin' every nerve, Ma, strainin' every nerve. "It's good-bye, good-bye, mama, Tell you if I can, If you ever see me comin' home again, It will be with a gamblin' man, Ma, be with a gamblin' man." |
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There is a man you'll hear about
Most every place you go. His holdings are in Texas, And his name is Diamond Joe. And he carries all his money In a diamond-studded jaw. And he never was much bothered By the process of the law. I hired out to Diamond Joe, boys, I did offer him my hand. And he give me a string of horses So old they could not stand. I like to starve to death, boys, He did mistreat me so. Never saved a dollar In the pay of Diamond Joe. Well, his bread it was corn dodger, His meat I couldn't chaw. And he drove me near distracted With the waggin' of his jaw. Oh, the tellin' of his stories, I aim to let you know, There never was a rounder That lied like Diamond Joe. Well, I tried three times to quit him, boys, But he did argue so, That I'm still punchin' cattle In the pay of Diamond Joe. And when I'm called up yonder, And it comes my time to go, Give my blankets to my buddies, And give the fleas to Diamond Joe. |
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Take a trip with me in nineteen thirteen
To Calumet, Michigan, in the copper country I'll take you to place called Italian Hall And the miners are having their big Christmas ball I'll take you in a door and up a high stairs Singing and dancing is heard everywhere I will let you shake hands with the people you see And watch the kids dance 'round the big Christmas tree There's talkin' and laughin' and songs in the air And the spirit of Christmas is there everywhere Before you know it, you're friends with us all And you're dancing around and around in the hall You ask about work and you ask about pay They'll tell you, they make less than a dollar a day Working the copper claims, risking their lives So it's fun to spend Christmas with children and wives Hey, a little girl sits down by the Christmas tree lights To play the piano, so you gotta keep quiet To hear all this fun you had not realize That the copper-boss thug-men they are milling outside The copper-boss thugs stuck their heads in the door One of them yelled and he screamed, "There's a fire" A lady, she hollered, "There's no such a thing Keep on with your party, there's no such a thing" A few people rushed and it's only a few It's just the thugs and the scabs fooling you A man grabbed his daughter and carried her down But the thugs held the door and he could not get out And then others followed a hundred or more Most everybody remained on the floor The gun-thugs they laughed at their murderous joke And the children were smothered on the stair by the door Such a terrible sight I never did see We carried our children back up to their tree The scabs outside still laughed at their spree And the children that died there were seventy-three Piano played a slow funeral tune And the town was lit up by a cold Christmas moon The parents they cried and the miners they moaned See what your greed for money has done |
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