And there's the young widow, coquettish and shy,
With a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye,
But when she gets married she'll cut quite a dash,
She'll give him the reins and she'll handle the cash,—
And it's hard, hard times.
And there's the young lady I like to have missed,
And I believe to my soul she'd like to be kissed;
She'll tell you she loves you with all pretence
And ask you to call again some time hence,—
And it's hard, hard times.
And there's the young man, the worst of the whole.
Oh, he will tell you with all of his soul,
He'll tell you he loves you and for you will die,
And when he's away he will swear it's a lie,—
And it's hard, hard times.
Am one of a band of highwaymen, Cole Younger is my name;
My crimes and depredations have brought my friends to shame;
The robbing of the Northfield Bank, the same I can't deny,
For now I am a prisoner, in the Stillwater jail I lie.
'Tis of a bold, high robbery, a story to you I'll tell,
Of a California miner who unto us befell;
We robbed him of his money and bid him go his way,
For which I will be sorry until my dying day.
And then we started homeward, when brother Bob did say:
"Now, Cole, we will buy fast horses and on them ride away.
We will ride to avenge our father's death and try to win the prize;
We will fight those anti-guerrillas until the day we die."
And then we rode towards Texas, that good old Lone Star State,
But on Nebraska's prairies the James boys we did meet;
With knives, guns, and revolvers we all sat down to play,
A-drinking of good whiskey to pass the time away.
A Union Pacific railway train was the next we did surprise,
And the crimes done by our bloody hands bring tears into my eyes.
The engineerman and fireman killed, the conductor escaped alive,
And now their bones lie mouldering beneath Nebraska's skies.
Then we saddled horses, northwestward we did go,
To the God-forsaken country called Min-ne-so-te-o;
I had my eye on the Northfield bank when brother Bob did say,
"Now, Cole, if you undertake the job, you will surely curse the day."