I went down to old Joe's bar room,
    on the corner by the square
    Well, the drinks were bein' served as usual,
    and this motley crowd was there

    Well, on my left stood Joe McKennedy,
    and his eyes were bloodshot red
    When he told me that sad story,
    these were the words he said:

    I went down to the St. James infirmary,
    I saw my baby there
    She was stretched out on a long white table,
    so cold, and fine, and fair
    Go ahead!

    Let her go, let her go,
    God bless her, wherever she may be
    She can search this world over,
    never find another man like me

    Yes, sixteen coal black horses,
    to pull [bad word] tied hack
    Well, it's seventeen miles to the graveyard,
    but my baby's [bad word] #39; back

    Well, now you've heard my story,
    well, have another round of booze
    And if anyone should ever, ever ask you,