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Jesse James
Jesse James was a lad that killed many a man,
He
robbed the Danville train.
But that dirt little coward who shot Mr. Howard
Has laid poor Jesse
in his grave.
Poor Jesse had a wife to mourn for his life,
Three children, they were brave,
But the dirty little
coward, who shot Mr. Howard
Has laid poor Jesse in his grave.
It was Robert Ford, that dirty little coward,
I
wonder how he did feel,
For he ate of Jesse's bread, and he slept in Jesse's bed,
Then he laid poor Jesse in his grave.
Jesse
was a man, a friend to the poor,
He never would see a man suffer pain;
And with his brother, Frank, he robbed the Chicago
bank,
And stopped the Glendale train.
It was his
brother Frank that robbed the Gallatin bank,
And carried the money from the town;
It was in this very place that they
had a little race,
For they shot Captain Sheets to the ground.
They went to the crossing, not very far from there,
And
there they did the same;
With the agent on his knees, he delivered up the keys
To the outlaws, Frank and Jesse James.
It
was Wednesday night, the moon was shining bright,
They robbed the Glendale
train.
The people they did say, for many mile away
It was robbed by Frank and Jesse James.
It was Saturday night,
Jesse was at home,
Talking with his family brave.
Robert Ford came along like a thief in the night
And laid poor
Jesse in his grave.
The people held their breath when they heard of Jesse's death,
And wondered how he came to die;
It
was one of the gang called little Robert Ford,
He shot poor Jesse on the sly.
Jesse went to his rest with a hand
on his breast;
The devil will be upon his knee.
He was born one day in the County
of Clay
And came from a solitary race.
This sing was made by
Billy Gashade
As soon as the news did arrive.
He said there was no man, with the law in his hand,
Who could take
Jesse James while alive
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