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All songs © 2002 Joel Mabus
all rights reserved -- do not post
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Shake
Them Hard Luck Blues
Frankie And Albert
My Bucket's Got A Hole In It
East St. Louis
Brady
What Kind Of Pants Does A Gambler Wear
The Train That Carried My Girl From Town
Big Rock Candy Mountain
Paul And Silas
SHAKE THEM HARD LUCK BLUES
words and music ©2002 Joel Mabus
Let me tell you bout the time
I had the hard luck blues
Down so low I had nothing to lose
I had to shake ‘em,
shake them hard luck blues
So I got me a guitar and a microphone
Ten records later the blues were gone
I had to shake ‘em,
shake them hard luck blues
Shake ‘em high, shake ‘em low
Shake ‘em everywhere you go
You gotta shake ‘em,
shake them hard luck blues
Shake ‘em up and make ‘em shout
Flip ‘em over and shake ‘em out
You gotta shake ‘em,
shake them hard luck blues
Tell you bout the time I bought an automobile
Had four good tires and three good wheels
You gotta shake ‘em,
shake them hard luck blues
Push in the key, pull out the choke
Step on the gas and go for broke
You gotta shake ‘em,
shake them hard luck blues
Shake ‘em once, shake ‘em twice
Shake em like a pair o’ dice
You gotta shake ‘em,
shake them hard luck blues
Shake ‘em hard and shake ‘em quick
Shake ‘em honey, that’s the trick
You gotta shake ‘em,
shake them hard luck blues
Two individuals sittin in the shade
Each one wishin the other was a maid
Heh – wouldn’t that be nice
Two individuals laying in bed
One rolled over to the other and said
You gotta shake ‘em,
You gotta shake ‘em right now!
Shake ‘em low, shake ‘em high
Shake ‘em till you shake ‘em dry
You gotta shake ‘em,
shake them hard luck blues
Shake ‘em up and shake ‘em down
Shake ‘em out to the edge of town
You gotta shake ‘em,
shake them hard luck blues
Shake ‘em out and shake ‘em in
Shake ‘em till you make ‘em grin
You gotta shake ‘em,
shake them hard luck blues
Shake ‘em high, shake ‘em low
Shake ‘em till its time to go
You gotta shake ‘em,
shake them hard luck blues
FRANKIE AND ALBERT
Traditional, arranged by Joel Mabus
When Frankie and Albert got married
Oh lord, how they did love
What’d they do? Swore to be true
True as the stars above
Now Albert’s gone and he won’t come home
Frankie went down to the barroom
To fill up her little beer can
She said, Mister Bartender,
Have you seen my lovin’ man
Albert’s gone and he won’t come home
Well, I don’t want to cause you no trouble
But I ain’t gonna tell you no lie
I saw your man about an hour ago
Makin’ time with Nancy Fry
Your Albert’s gone and he won’t come home
Frankie went down to the pawnshop
Bought a big Colt 44
Stuck it inside her kimono
And marched up to Miss Nancy’s door
‘Cause Albert’s gone and he won’t come home
Well, Albert seen her comin’
Out the back door he did scoot
Frankie pulled out that revolver
And went rooty toot toot toot toot
Albert’s gone and he won’t come home
Roll me over Frankie
Roll me over slow
Roll me on my left side
‘Cause my right side hurts me so
Albert’s gone and he won’t come home
All of them rubber tired hearses
All of them rubber tired hacks
Took old Albert to the graveyard
But they failed to bring him back
Albert’s gone and he won’t come home
It was a hot day in the courthouse
They ran the big ‘lectric fan
The judge said, Frankie, I’m letting you go
But don’t shoot that gun again
‘Cause Albert’s gone and he won’t come home
When Frankie and Albert got married
Oh lord, how they did love
What’d they do? Swore to be true
True as the stars above
Now Albert’s gone and he won’t come home
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MY BUCKET’S GOT A HOLE IN IT
Traditional, arranged by Joel Mabus
I went to rush the growler
Down at the corner bar
The man began to holler
Who do you think you are
Your bucket’s got a hole in it
Your bucket’s got a hole in it
Your bucket’s got a hole in it
You can’t buy no beer
Yonder stands miss Lucy
How in the world do you know
She got a little beer bucket
With a great big hole
Her bucket’s got a hole in it
Her bucket’s got a hole in it
Her bucket’s got a hole in it
She can’t buy no beer
Well, I’m standin’ on the corner
With a bucket in my hand
Lookin’ for a woman
Wants a thirsty man
My bucket’s got a hole in it
My bucket’s got a hole in it
My bucket’s got a hole in it
Can’t buy no beer
My bucket’s got a hole buddy
My bucket’s got a hole buddy
My bucket’s got a hole buddy
Can’t buy no beer
I went to rush the growler
Down at the corner bar
The man began to holler
Who do you think you are
My bucket’s got a hole in it
My bucket’s got a hole in it
My bucket’s got a hole in it
Can’t buy no beer
EAST ST LOUIS
Traditional, arranged by Joel Mabus
Well I walked all the way from East St Louis town
Well I walked all the way from East St Louis town
And I ain’t got a dollar, I ain’t got but one thin dime
And I ain’t got a dollar, I ain’t got but one thin dime
And if I get lucky, I’ll be riding home in style
If I get lucky I’ll be riding home in style
Or I might sleep tonight down by the riverside
Gonna lay my head down by the riverside
Let that big Mississippi sing my lullaby
Let that old river water sing my lullaby
BRADY
Traditional, arranged by Joel Mabus
Down in St Louis at Twelfth and Carr
Big Bill Duncan was tendin’ bar
In Come Brady with a star on his chest
Duncan shot Brady and you know the rest
Brady, why didn’t you run
Brady, done dead and gone
Brady, why didn’t you run
When Duncan pulled out that Gatling gun
Brady, Brady, you sure done wrong
To bust in the room when the game was on
You shouldn’t been knocking on Duncan’s door
Now you’re layin’ dead on the grocery floor
Brady, why didn’t you run
Brady, done dead and gone
Brady, why didn’t you run
When Duncan pulled out that Gatling gun
Well, Brady went to hell lookin’ mighty furious
The devil says, “where you from?” “East St. Louis”
Well then take off your coat and enjoy your stay
For we’ve been expecting you every day
Brady, why didn’t you run
Brady, done dead and gone
Brady, why didn’t you run
When Duncan pulled out that Gatling gun
When the womenfolk heard that Brady was dead
They went upstairs and dressed in red
Down in St Louis they’re singin’ this song
Brady’s in hell with his Stetson on.
Brady, why didn’t you run
Brady, done dead and gone
Brady, why didn’t you run
When Duncan pulled out that Gatling gun
WHAT KIND OF PANTS DOES A GAMBLER WEAR?
Traditional, arranged by Joel Mabus
What kind of pants does a gambler wear, honey
What kind of pants does a gambler wear, babe
What kind of pants does a gambler wear,
Big ol’ striped yaller pair
Honey, Honey, Honey, Sugar Babe.
How many bisquits does he eat, honey
How many bisquits does he eat, babe
How many bisquits does he eat
Forty five and a pound of meat
Honey, Honey, Honey, Sugar Babe.
Whatcha gonna do when the meat gives out, honey
Whatcha gonna do when the meat gives out, babe
Whatcha gonna do when the meat gives out
Sit in the door with your mouth in a pout
Honey, Honey, Honey, Sugar Babe.
You take a line and I’ll take a pole, honey
You take a line and I’ll take a pole, babe
You take a line and I’ll take a pole
We’ll head down to the crawdad hole
Honey, Honey, Honey, Sugar Babe.
Whatcha gonna do when the hole goes dry, honey
Whatcha gonna do when the hole goes dry, babe
Whatcha gonna do when the hole goes dry
Sit on the bank and cry, cry cry
Honey, Honey, Honey, Sugar Babe.
Ain’t no need to be crying so hard, honey
Ain’t no need to be crying so hard, babe
Ain’t no need to be crying so hard
I got the key to the poultry yard
Honey, Honey, Honey, Sugar Babe.
I got an old hen sittin in the chimney jam, honey
I got an old hen sittin in the chimney jam, babe
I got an old hen sittin in the chimney jam
If that ain’t a hot place I’ll be damned
Honey, Honey, Honey, Sugar Babe.
What kind of pants does a gambler wear, honey
What kind of pants does a gambler wear, babe
What kind of pants does a gambler wear,
Big ol’ striped yaller pair
Honey, Honey, Honey, Sugar Babe.
Train that Carried My Girl From Town
Traditional, arranged by Joel Mabus
Where was you when the train left town
Standin’ on the corner with my head hung down
I said I hate, I hate
I hate that train that carried my girl from town
I said I hate, I hate
I hate that train that carried my girl from town
Rashers on the table, coffee getting cold
Some fast talking gambler come and stole my jelly roll
I said I hate, I hate
I hate that train that carried my girl from town
I said I hate, I hate
I hate that train that carried my girl from town
There goes my girl, somebody bring her back
She’s got her fingers in my money sack
I said I hate, I hate
I hate that train that carried my girl from town
I said I hate, I hate
I hate that train that carried my girl from town
I wish to the lord that that train would wreck
I wish the engineer would break the fireman’s neck
I said I hate, I hate
I hate that train that carried my girl from town
I said I hate, I hate
I hate that train that carried my girl from town
Ashes to ashes and its dust to dust
Ain’t no good lookin’ woman that a man can trust
I said I hate, I hate
I hate that train that carried my girl from town
I said I hate, I hate
I hate that train that carried my girl from town
Standing at the station with my hat in my hand
Thinking ‘bout that woman with a gambling man
I said I hate, I hate
I hate that train that carried my girl from town
I said I hate, I hate
I hate that train that carried my girl from town
Where was you when the train left town
Standin on the corner with my head hung down
I said I hate, I hate
I hate that train that carried my girl from town
I said I hate, I hate
I hate that train that carried my girl from town
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BIG ROCK CANDY MOUNTAIN
Traditional, arranged by Joel Mabus
[spoken]
Man comes in this life naked and bare
He walks through this world with troubles and care
When he departs, we don’t know where
But he’ll be alright there if he does right here
There’s a big rock candy mountain in a land that’s fair and bright
The handouts grow on bushes and you can sleep out every night
The boxcars all run empty and the railroad bulls are blind
Oh, I’m bound to go where there ain’t no snow
Where the rain don’t fall and the wind don’t blow
Up the big rock candy mountain
Oh, the buzzing of the bees in the cigarette trees,
And the soda water fountains
The lemonade springs where the bluebird sings
Up the big rock candy mountain
Up the big rock candy mountain, the cops have wooden legs
The bulldogs all have rubber teeth, & the hens lay hard boiled eggs
There ain’t no short-handled shovels, no axes, saws or picks
I’m bound away where you sleep all day
Where they hung the jerk that invented work
Up the big rock candy mountain
Oh, the buzzing of the bees in the cigarette trees,
And the soda water fountains
The lemonade springs where the bluebird sings
Up the big rock candy mountain
Up the big rock candy mountain, you never change your socks
And little streams of alcohol, come trickling down the rocks
They hay is dry and fluffy, and the barn doors have no locks
There’s a great big lake of Irish stew
You can paddle all around in a big canoe
Up the big rock candy mountain
Oh, the buzzing of the bees in the cigarette trees,
And the soda water fountains
The lemonade springs where the bluebird sings
Up the big rock candy mountain
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PAUL AND SILAS
Traditional, arranged by Joel Mabus
Paul and Silas bound in jail ----- all night long
Paul and Silas bound in jail ----- all night long
Paul and Silas bound in jail ----- all night long
Crying who shall deliver for me
Paul and Silas shout and prayed ----- etc
They cried glory glory halleloo ----
Paul and Silas bound in jail -----
The lightning flashed and the thunder roared ----
Paul and Silas bound in jail -----
The old jail house began to rock -----
The jailer cried what must I do -----
Paul and Silas bound in jail -----
Crying glory glory hallelloo -----
Paul and Silas bound in jail ---
© 2002 Joel Mabus
Last revised: January 24, 2015
.