There are 66 days left to Halloween and I think a haunting blues song is in order:
Photographer Unknown
Folks, I’m goin’ down to St. James Infirmary
See my baby there;
She’s stretched out on a long, white table
She’s so sweet, so cold, so fair
Let her go, let her go, oh bless her
Wherever she may be
She will search this wide world over
But she’ll never find another sweet man like me
Now, when I die, bury me in my straight-leg britches
Put on a box-back coat and a Stetson hat
Put a twenty-dollar gold piece on my watch chain
So you can let all the boys know I died standing pat
An’ give me six crap shooting pall bearers
Let a chorus girl sing me a song
Put a red hot jazz band at the top of my head
So we can raise Hallelujah as we go along
Folks, now that you have heard my story
Say, boy, hand me over another shot of that hooch;
If anyone should ask you
You just tell ’em I’ve got those St. James Infirmary blues
Photographer Unknown
