Come all you good time people,
While I've got money to spend,
Tomorrow might be Monday
And I'll neither have a dollar nor a friend.
When I had plenty of money, good people,
My friends were all standing around,
Just as soon as my pocket book was empty,
Not a friend on earth to be found.
Last time I seen my little woman, good people,
She had a wine glass in her hand;
She was drinking down her troubles
With a low-down sorry man.
Oh, my daddy taught me a-plenty, good people;
My mama, she taught me more.
If I didn't quit my rowdy ways,
Have trouble at my door.
I wrote my woman a letter, good people;
I told her I's in jail.
She wrote me back an answer
Saying "Honey, I'm a-coming to go your bail."
All around this old jailhouse is haunted, good people;
Forty dollars won't pay my fine.
Corn whisky has surrounded my body, poor boy,
Pretty women is a-troubling my mind.
Give me corn bread when I'm hungry, good people;
Corn whiskey when I'm dry;
Pretty women a-standing around me;
Sweet heaven when I die.
If I'd a-listened to my mama, good people,
I wouldn't have been here today;
But a-drinking and a-shooting and a-gambling,
At home I cannot stay.
Go dig a hole in the meadow, good people,
Go did a hole in the ground.
Come around all you good people
And see this poor rounder go down.
When I am dead and buried
My pale face turned to the sun,
You can come around and mourn, little woman,
And think the way you have done.