| John Hardy was a brave little man
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| He carried two guns ev’ry day
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| Killed him a man in the West Virginia land
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| Oughta seen poor Johnny gettin' away, Lord, Lord
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| Oughta seen poor Johnny gettin' away
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| John Hardy was standin' at the barroom door
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| He didn’t have a hand in the game
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| Up stepped his woman and threw down fifty cents
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| Says, «Deal my man in the game, Lord, Lord…»
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| John Hardy lost that fifty cents
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| It was all he had in the game
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| He drew the forty-four that he carried by his side
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| Blowed out that poor Negro’s brains, Lord, Lord…
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| John Hardy had ten miles to go
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| And half of that he run
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| He run till he come to the broad river bank
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| He fell to his breast and he swum, Lord, Lord…
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| He swum till he came to his mother’s house
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| «My boy, what have you done?»
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| «I've killed a man in the West Virginia Land
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| And I know that I have to be hung, Lord, Lord…»
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| He asked his mother for a fifty-cent piece
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| «My son, I have no change»
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| «Then hand me down my old forty-four
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| And I’ll blow out my agurvatin' (sic) brains, Lord, Lord…»
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| John Hardy was lyin' on the broad river bank
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| As drunk as a man could be
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| Up stepped the police and took him by the hand
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| Sayin' «Johnny, come and go with me, Lord, Lord…»
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| John Hardy had a pretty little girl
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| The dress she wore was blue
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| She come a-skippin' through the old jail hall
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| Sayin', «Poppy, I’ll be true to you, Lord, Lord…»
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| John Hardy had another little girl
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| The dress that she wore was red
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| She came a-skippin' through the old jail hall
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| Sayin' «Poppy, I’d rather be dead, Lord, Lord…»
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| They took John Hardy to the hangin' ground
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| They hung him there to die
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| The very last words that poor boy said
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| «My forty gun never told a lie, Lord, Lord…» |