American Old Time Song Lyrics: 02 Jim Bludso

Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 2

Home Songster main V01 V02 V03 V04 V05 V06 V07 V08 V09 V10 V11 V12 V13 V14 V15 V16 V17 V18 V19 V20 V21 V22 V23 V24 V25 V26 V27 V28 V29 V30 V31 V32 V33 V34 V35 V36 V37 V38 V39 V40 V41 V42 V43 V44 V45 V46 V47 V48 V49 V50 V51 V52 V53 V54 V55 V56 V57 V58 V59 V60 V61 Support Search



Share page  Visit Us On FB


JIM BLUDSO
A Recitation-Written by John Hay.

Wall, no I I can't tell where he lives,
Because he don't live, you see:
Leastways, he's got out of the habit
Of livin' like you and me.
Whar have you been for the last three years,
That you havn't heard folks tell
How Jimmy Bludso passed in his checks,
The night of the " Prairie Belle?"

He warn't no saint-them engineers
Is all pretty much alike-
One wife in Natchez-under-the-Hill,
And another one here, in Pike.
A careless man in his talk was Jim,
And an awkward man in a row-
But he never pinked, and he never lied,
I reckon he never knowed how.

And this was all the religion he had-
To treat his engine well;
Never be passed on the river;
To mind the pilot's bell;
And if ever the " Prairie Belle " took fire,
A thousand times he swore
He'd hold her nozzle agin the bank
Till the last soul got ashore.

All boats has their day on the Mississip',
And her day came at last-
The Movastar was a better boat,
But the Belle, she wouldn't be passed,
And so came tearin' along that night,
The oldest craft on the line,
With a nigger squat on her safety-valve,
And her furnaces crammed, rosin and pine.

The fire bust out as she clared the bar.
And burnt a hole in the night,
And quick as a flash she turned, and made
For that wilier-bank on the right.
There was ruunin' and cursin', but Jim yelled out
Over all the infernal roar,
"I'll hold her nozzle agin the bank
Till the last galoot's ashore."

Thro' the hot, black breath of the burnin' boat
Jim Bludso's voice was heard,
And they all had trust in his cu9sedness,
And know'd he would keep his word.
And 6ure's you're born, they all got off
Afore the smoke-stacks fell,
And Bludso's ghost went up alone
In the smoke of the " Prairie Belle."

He warn't no saint-but at judgment

I'd run my chance with Jim
'Longside of some pious gentlemen
That wouldn't shook hands with him.
He'd seen his duty a dead sure thing,
And went for it thar and then;
And Christ ain't a-going to be too hard
On a man that died for men.
Download music lyrics PDF file For Printing with (no ads)
Download music lyrics in RTF file For editing / printing with Word and other editing software.
Download music lyrics as PNG Graphic file For inclusion in DTP etc.