Brontekst bekijken van St James Infirmary

<poem>
I went {{Am}}down to {{E7}}old Joe's {{Am}}bar room, on the corner {{FM7}}by the {{C}}square{{E7}}
Well, the {{Am}}drinks were bein' {{E7}}served as {{Am}}usual, {{Am7}} and this {{FM7}}motley {{E7}}crowd was {{Am}}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 

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! 
</poem>