| I’m goin' down to St. James Infirmary
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| To see my baby there
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| She was dressed in gold white satin
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| So gold, so cool, so bad
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| Well, now let me tell you people
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| And take heed to what I say
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| Well, it’s the poor what gets the problems
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| And the wealthy that gets their way
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| I’m goin' down, goin' down
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| Goin' down to St. James Infirmary
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| Goin' down, goin' down
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| Goin' down to St. James Infirmary
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| Well, my woman she had no money
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| Ooh, no money to fill the fuel
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| She had to go into the forest
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| To gather them sticks of wood
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| Well the blue ice numbs the fingers
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| That creeps right trough the bones
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| Well my baby’s in St. James infirmary
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| Her body’s so stiff like stone
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| I’m going down, going down
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| Going down to St. James infirmary
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| Going down, goin' down
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| Goin' down to St. James infirmary
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| I’m goin' down, goin' down
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| Going down to St. James infirmary
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| Going down, goin' down
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| Goin' down to St. James infirmary
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| I’m goin' down, goin' down
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| Goin' down to St. James infirmary
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| I’m goin' down, goin' down
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| Goin' down to St. James infirmary
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| I’m goin' down, goin' down
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| Goin' down to St. James infirmary
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| I’m goin' down, goin' down
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| Goin' down to St. James infirmary |