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Poor Howard's dead and gone, left me here to sing his song |
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Poor Howard's dead and gone, left me here to sing his song |
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Poor Howard had a wife and she nagged him all his life |
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So he used his butcher knife---like I said he had a wife |
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Now poor Howard's dead and gone... |
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They took Howard off to jail, wouldn't let me go his bail, |
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They said if he is your friend, buy a lily for his hand |
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Poor Howard's dead and gone... |
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When we laid his bones to rest we fulfilled his last request |
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He said buddies bury me far from her as I can be |
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Now poor Howard's dead and gone... |
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His last words were 'Friends, goodbye. Don't you worry; don't you cry. |
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I don't mind this a gettin' hung, at least I stopped her naggin' tongue' |
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Now poor Howard's dead and gone... |
