Lyrics Kassie Jones Pt.1 - Furry Lewis

Kassie Jones Pt.1

PART 1:
I woke up this mornin', four o’clock
Mister Casey told his fireman, get his boiler hot
Put on your water, put on your coal
Put your head out of the window, see my drivers roll
See my driver roll
Put your head out of the window, see my driver roll
Lord, some people say that Mister Casey couldn’t run
Let me just tell you what Mister Casey done
He left Memphis, it was quarter to nine
Got to Newport News, it was dinnertime
It was dinnertime
Got to Newport News, it was dinnertime
I’ve sold my gin, I’ve sold it straight
Police run me to my woman’s gate
She comes to the door, she nod her head
She made me welcome to the foldin' bed
To the foldin' bed
Made me welcome to the foldin' bed
Lord, the people said to Casey «You're runnin' over time.»
«You'll have another loser with the one-o-nine.»
Casey said, «This ain’t in mind
I’ll run it in close just to make my time.»
Said to all the passengers, «Better keep yourself hid
Naturally gonna shake it like Chainey did.»
Like Chainey did
Naturally gonna shake it like Chainey did
Mister Casey run his engine within a mile of the place
Number four stared him in the face
The depot told Casey, «Well, you must leave town.»
«Believe to my soul I’m Alabama bound.»
«Alabama bound.»
«Believe to my soul I’m Alabama bound.»
Missus Casey said she dreamt a dream
The night she bought her sewin' machine
The needle got broke, she could not sew
She loved Mister Casey, 'cause she told me so
Told me so
Loved Mister Casey, 'cause she told me so
There was a woman name Miss Alice Fry
Said, «I'm gonna ride with Mister Casey 'fore I die
I ain’t good looking but I take my time
A rambling woman with a rambling mind
Got a rambling mind.»
PART 2:
Casey looked at his water, water was low
Looked at his watch, his watch was slow
On the road again
Natural born Eastman on the road again
Lord, there’s people tell by the throttle moan
The man at the fire’s Mister Casey Jones
Mister Casey Jones
Mister Casey said, before he died
One more road that he wants to ride
People tells Casey, «Which road is he?»
«The Southern Pacific and the Santa Fe
Santa Fe.»
This mornin' I heard someone was dyin'
Missus Casey’s children on the doorstep cryin'
Mama, mama, I can’t keep from cryin'
Papa got killed on the Southern line
On the Southern line
Papa got killed on the Southern line
«Mama, mama, how can it be?
Killed my father and you weren’t the first to grieve?»
«Children, children want you to hold your breath
Draw another pension from your father’s death
From your father’s death.»
On the road again
I’m a natural born Eastman on the road again
Tuesday mornin', it looked like rain
Around the curve came a passenger train
Under the boiler lay Mister Casey Jones
Good old engineer, but he’s dead and gone
Dead and gone
On the road again
I’m a natural born Eastman on the road again
I left Memphis to spread the news
Memphis women don’t wear no shoes
Had it written in the back of my shirt
Natural born Eastmen don’t have to work
Don’t have to work
I’m a natural born Eastman, don’t have to work