Written by Irving Mills
I went down to the St. James Infirmary
I saw my baby there,
she was stretched out on a long white table,
so cold, so sweet, so fair
Let her go, let her go, god bless her
wherever she may be
She may search this wide world over,
she’ll never find a sweet man like me
When I die, bury me in straight lace shoes
I want a box back coat and Stetson hat,
put a 20 dollar goldpiece on my watch chain
so the boys know I died standing pat
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