Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Willie McTell
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Willie McTell
Composer
Lyrics
Little Jesse was a gambler, night and day
Well he used crooked cards and dice
Sinful guy, good hearted but had no soul
Heart was hard and cold like ice
Jesse was a wild reckless gambler, he won a gang of change
Altho' a many gambler's heart he led in pain
When he began to spend and lose his money
He began to be blue and all alone
But boys, his heart had even turned to stone
What broke Jesse's heart while he was blue and all alone
Sweet Lorena packed up and gone
Police walked up and shot my friend Jesse down
Boys, I gotta die today
He had a gang of crapshooters and gamblers at his bedside
Here are the words he had to say
"I guess I ought to know
Exactly how I want to go"
How you wanna go, Jesse?
Eight crapshooters to be my pallbearers
Let 'em be veiled down in black
I want nine men going to the graveyard, buddy
And eight men comin' back
I want a gang of gamblers gathered 'round my coffin side
A crooked card printed on my hearse
Don't say the crapshooters'll never grieve over me
My life been a doggone curse
Send poker players to the graveyard
Dig my grave with the ace of spades
I want twelve polices in my funeral march
High sheriff playin' blackjack, lead the parade
I want the judge and solicitor who jailed me fourteen times
Put a pair of dice in my shoes, and what else?
Let a deck of cards be my tombstone, buddy
I got the dyin' crapshooter's blues
Sixteen real good crapshooters
Sixteen bootleggers to sing a song
Sixteen racket men gamblin'
Couple tend bar while I'm rollin' along
He wanted twenty-two womens outta the Hampton Hotel
Twenty-six off South Bell
Twenty-nine women outta North Atlanta
Know that Jessie didn't pass out so swell
And his head was achin', heart was thumpin'
Little Jesse went down bouncing and jumping
Folks don't be standin' round Jesse cryin'
He wants everybody to do the Charleston whilst he dies
One foot up and a toenail dragging
Throw my friend Jesse in the hoodoo wagon
Come here, mama, with that can of booze
The dying crapshooter's blues I mean
The dying crapshooter's blues
Written by: Willie McTell

