| Well, folks, I’m goin' down to St. James Infirmary
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| See my little baby there
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| She’s stretched out on a long, white table
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| Well, she looks so good, so cold, so fair
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| Let her go, let her go, God bless her
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| Wherever she may be
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| You may search this whole wide world over
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| But you’ll never find another sweetheart like me, yeah
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| Take apart your bones and put 'em back together
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| Tell your mama that you’re somebody new
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| Feel the breeze blowin', tell 'em all «Look out, here it comes»
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| Now I can say whatever I feel like to you
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| Then get me six craps-shootin' pallbearers
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| Let a chorus girl sing me a song
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| Put a red-hot jazz band at the top so that we can raise
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| Hallelujah as we go along, well
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| Well, folks, now that you have heard my story
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| Say, boy, hand me another shot of that rye
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| And if anyone else should ask you
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| Just tell 'em I’ve got some of those St. James Infirmary blues |