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|Hand me||down my walkin' cane|
|Hand me||down my walkin'||cane|
|Hand me down my walkin' cane,|
|I'm gonna catch the midnight train,|
|Cause||all my sins are taken||away.|
Oh, hand me down my bottle of corn,
('ll get drunk as sure's you're born.
Oh, I got drunk and I landed in jail,
And there wasn't no one to go my bail.
Come on, Mom, won't you go my bail,
And get me out of this Goddamn jail?
The meat is tough, and the beans are bad,
Oh, my God, I can't eat that.
If I had listened to what )ou said,
I'd be at home in my feather bed.
If I should die in Tennessee,
Just send my bones home C.O.D.
But if I die in New York State,
Just ship my body back by freight.
The devil chased me 'round a stump,
I thought he'd catch me at e\ery jump.
Oh, hell is deep, and hell is wide,
Ain't got no bottom, ain't got no side.
Now some folks say, it ain't no fun,
When a song like this goes on and on.
Yes, on and on and on and on,
On and on and on and on.
|This royalty free song sheet was generated by the Traditional & Folk Song Library. As-is prints of this sheet may be freely distributed. Further info plus more songs and music from WWW.TRADITIONALMUSIC.CO.UK|