The referee counted ten and then the “Kid” didn’t move a bit,
I knelt beside him, got hold of his head, I knew he was hard hit.
A doctor jumped in and felt his pulse, put water on his head,
A minute later he tested his heart and announced the “Kid” was dead.
From that time on, I’m sorry to say, my life began to fail
In health and strength and happiness for I served ten years in jail.
And now I am fighting Barleycorn and my hair is turning gray,
And I’ll beget this tough old gamester until my judgment day.
* * *