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I went down to Old Joe's Bar-room. |
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On the corner of the street. |
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Here were drinking wine as usual. |
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And the usual crowd was there. |
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On my left was Joe MacKennedy. |
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His eyes were blood-shot red. |
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His elbow on the bar he turned to me |
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And these are the words he said, so sad: |
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I went down to St. James Infirmary. |
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I saw my baby there. |
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Looked down on a long white table, |
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So sweet, so cold, so fair. |
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Let him go, let him go, God bless him. |
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Wherever he may be. |
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He can look this wide world over |
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He'll never find that? sweet boy like me. |
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... |
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Used to be my own... |
