Country Blues (aka Hustling Gamblers)

Come all you good time people,While I have money to spend,Tomorrow might be MondayAnd I neither have a dollar nor a friend.When I had plenty of good money, good people,My friends were all standing around,Just as soon as my pocket book was emptyNot a friend on earth to be found.I've gambled all over Kentucky, good people,I've gambled part of the way through Spain.Going back to old VirginiaFor to gamble my last card game.Last time I seen my little woman, good people,She had a wine glass in her hand,She's a drinking down her troubleWith a low-down sorry man.I wrote my woman a letter, good people,I told her I was in jail.She wrote me back an answerSaying "Honey, I'm a-coming to go your bail."All around this old jailhouse is haunted good people,Forty dollars won't pay my fine.Corn whisky has surrounded my body, poor boy,Pretty women is a-troubling my mind.Boys, if you don't quit your drinkingSome time you'll be just like me;A working out your livingIn the penitentiary.Oh my daddy taught me a-plenty, good people,My mama, she told me more.If I didn't quit my rowdy waysI'd have trouble at my door.In the bottom of the whisky glass,The lurking devil dwells.It burns your breast to drink it, boys;It'll send your soul to Hell.Go dig a hole in the meadow, good people,Go did a hole in the ground.Come around all you good peopleAnd see this poor rounder go down.When I am dead and buriedAnd my pale face turned to the sun,You can come around and mourn, little woman,And think the way you have done.