Jesse James was a lad that killed many a man,
And robbed that Danville Train
But that dirty little coward that shot Mr Howard
Has laid poor Jessie in his grave
Poor Jesse had a wife to mourn all her life
His children they were brave,
Robert Ford caught his eye and shot him on the sly
And they laid poor Jessie in his grave
It was his brother Frank stuck up the Pittsfield Bank,
And carried the money from the town,
It was in this very place that they had a little race,
For they shot Captain Sheets to the ground.
They went to the crossing not very far from there,
And there they did the same,
With the agent on his knees, he delivered up the keys
To the outlaws, Frank and Jesse James.
It was on a Wednesday night, the moon was shining bright
They stopped the Glendale train,
He robbed from the rich and he gave to the poor,
He'd heart, and a hand and a brain.
It was on a Saturday night when Jesse was at home
Talking with his family brave,
Robert Ford's pistol ball brought him tumbling from the wall,
And they laid Jesse in his grave.
It was Robert Ford that dirty little coward,
I wonder how he does feel,
For he ate of Jesse's bread, and he slept in Jesse's bed,
And then laid poor Jesse in his grave.
This song was made by Billy Gashade,
As soon as the news did arrive,
He said there was no man with the law in his hand,
Could take Jesse James when alive.