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It was down in old Joe's barroom,
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On the corner by the square
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The drinks were served as usual
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And the usual crowd were there

On my left stood big Joe McKennedy
His eyes were bloodshot red
He turned to the crowd around him
These were the very words he said

I went down to St. James Infirmary
To see my baby there;
She was stretched out on a long, white table
So pale, so cold, so fair

Let her go, let her go, God bless her
Wherever she may be
She may search this whole world over
And never find a man as sweet as me

When I die please bury me in straight laced shoes
I want a box back coat and my Stetson hat
Put a twenty-dollar gold piece on my watch chain
So the gang'll know I died standing pat

I want six crap shooters for pall bearers
Six pretty girls to sing me a song
Put a jazz band on my hearse wagon
To raise hell as we stroll along

And now that you have heard my story
I'll have another shot of booze;
And if anybody happens to ask you
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I've got the St. James Infirmary blues