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Delia (5)

Delia (5)

 Delia, Delia, how can it be?
 You love that old rounder but you don't love me
 Well, that's one more rounder gone
 Delia, Delia sitting all around
 Some of your old rounders gonna pay my way back home
 Sitting on the housetop, high as I can see
 You love that old rounder, but you don't love me

 Delia's poor mother took a trip out West
 When she returned, Delia lyin' in rest
 Delia's mother wept, Delia's father moaned
 They'd have wanted their poor child to die at home
 Rubber tired buggy, two-seated hack,
 Took Delia to the graveyard, never brought her back

 Kenny lookin' high, Kenny lookin' low,
 Shot poor Delia with that hated .44
 Delia, Delia, wouldn't take no one's advice
 Last words I heard her say were, "Jesus Christ!"
 Judge said to Kenny, "Here's a natural fact:
 you going to wait in jail till Delia come back"

 Kenny's in the basement, drinking from a silver cup
 Delia's in the graveyard, never come back up
 Kenny said to judge, "What's the fuss about?
 Just that no good woman trying to put me out"

 Here are the lyrics of Blind Willie McTell's version from a Library of Congress
 recording. I got them from Harry's blues lyrics online site. I have a very diff
erent version somewhere, but I can't remember where.
In his 'American Folk Poetry', Duncan Emrich includes a very long version under
the title 'Delia Holmes' from the singing of Will Winn of Columbia, South Caroli
na. He also gives a reference to an article in the December 1937 edition of Sout
hern Folklore Quarterly: Chapman
 J. Milling 'Delia Holmes - A Neglected Negro Ballad'.

DT #657
Laws I5
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