| It was down in old Joe’s bar room
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| In a corner by the square
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| The drinks were served as usual
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| And a goodly crowed was there
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| On my left stood Joe McKenney
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| His eyes blood shot and red
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| He said «you can set em up bar-tender»
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| And these were the words he said
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| I was down by St. James Infirmary
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| I saw my sweat-heart there
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| She was layin' out on a cold, white table
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| So cold, so white, so bare
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| I went up to the doctor
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| «She's mighty low» he said
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| I went back to my baby
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| Good god she’s layin' there dead
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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 can search the whole wide world over
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| But there’ll never be another for me
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| Now, when I die just bury me
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| In my long, black coat and silk hat
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| Put a twenty dollar gold piece on my watch-chain
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| To show the good Lord I’m standing fat
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| And now my story’s over
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| You can pass around another shot of booze
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| And if anyone should ask you
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| I’ve got those gambler’s blues |