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Lyrics for White House Blues by Unknown:
| | | Artist: | Unknown |
| | Album: | Unknown | | Track: | White House Blues | | | | Date Added: | 18/10/2007 | | Views: | 252 | | | | Lyrics: | White House Blues
SOURCE: Bob Pfeffer
SOURCE'S SOURCE: (1) Bascom
Lamar Lunsford, RECORD: "Songs and Ballads of
American History and of the
Assassination of
Presidents" (Library of Congress)
(2) Charlie Poole, RECORD:
COMMENTS: BLL titled it "Zolgotz"; he heard Willard
Randolph sing it
in about 1923. c.f. also A. Lomax "FS of North
America"
TEXT: (1)
D
Zolgotz, cruel man
D
G D
He shot poor McKinley with a handkerchief on his hand
A7 G
In Buffalo, in Buffalo
Zolgotz, you done him wrong
You shot poor
McKinley when he was walkin' along
In Buffalo, in Buffalo
The pistol fired then
McKinley he did fall
The doctor says "McKinley, I can't find the ball"
In Buffalo, in
Buffalo
They sent for the doctor, the doctor come
He come in a-chargin', he come in
a-runnin'
In Buffalo, in Buffalo
He saddled his horse and he swung on his
rein
And he trotted the horse till he outrun the train
To Buffalo, to
Buffalo
Forty-four boxes all trimmed in braid
A sixteen-wheeled driver, boys, it
couldn't make the grade
To Buffalo, to Buffalo
Forty-four boxes trimmed in lace
Take
him back to the baggage, boys, where I can't see his face
In Buffalo, in
Buffalo
Mrs. Mckinley took a trip, and she took it out west
Where she couldn't hear
the people talk about McKinley's death
In Buffalo, in Buffalo
The engine whistled
down the line
A-blowing every station - McKinley was a-dying
In Buffalo, in
Buffalo
Seventeen coaches all trimmed in black
Took McKinley to the graveyard but
never brought him back
To Buffalo, to Buffalo
Seventeen coaches all trimmed in
black
Took Roosevelt to the White House but never brought him back
To Buffalo, to
Buffalo
SPOKEN: That was Theodore Roosevelt
(2)
McKinley
he hollered, McKinley he squalled
The doctor said "McKinley, I can't find that ball"
From
Buffalo to Washington
Roosevelt in the White House, he's doin' his best
McKinley in
the graveyard, he's takin' his rest
He's gone a long old time
Hush up little
children, now don't you fret
You'll draw a pension at your papa's death
From Buffalo to
Washington
Roosevelt in the White House, drinkin' out of a silver cup
McKinley in
the graveyard, he never wakes up
He's gone a long, long time
Ain't but the one thing that
grieves my mind
That is to die and leave my poor wife behind
I'm gone a long old
time
Standing at the station, just lookin' at the time
See by it you're running by
half-past nine
From Buffalo to Washington
Pay in the train, she's just on
time
She'll run a thousand miles from eight o'clock till nine
From Buffalo to
Washington
Yonder comes the train, she's comin' down the line
Throwin' them a
station message, McKinley's a-dyin'
It's hard times, hard times
Look a-here, you
rascal, you see what you've done
You shot my husband with that Ivor Johnstone gun
Carry
him back to Washington
The doc told the horse, he tore down the rein
Said to that horse,
"You've got to outrun this train
From Buffalo to Washington"
Doctor came a-running,
taked off his specs
Said "Mr. McKinley, better cash in your checks
You're bound to die,
bound to die"
@murder @America @death
filename[ WHITEHOU
RPf
===DOCUMENT
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