I went down to old Joe's bar room, on the corner by the square
Well, the drinks were bein' served as usual, and this motley crowd was there
Well, on my left stood Joe McKennedy, and his eyes were bloodshot red
When he told me that sad story, these were the words he said:
I went down to the St. James infirmary, I saw my baby there
She was stretched out on a long white table, so cold, and fine, and fair
Go ahead!
Let her go, let her go, God bless her, wherever she may be
She can search this world over, never find another man like me
Yes, sixteen coal black horses, to pull that rubber tied hack
Well, it's seventeen miles to the graveyard, but my baby's never comin' back
Well, now you've heard my story, well, have another round of booze
And if anyone should ever, ever ask you, I've got the St. James infirmary blues!