Delia
Delia was a gambling girl, she gambled all around
Oh, she was a gambling girl, she would lay her money down
She's all I've got is gone
Delia's dear old mother took a trip out west
When she returned, little Delia'd gone to her rest
Delia's mammy weeped, Delia's daddy mourned
It wouldn't have been so bad if that poor gal had died at home
Call out the rubber-tired hearses, the double-seated hacks
They took poor Delia to the graveyard, boys, but they never brought her back
* * *
High up on the rooftops, high as I can be
Looking at them rounders who are looking out for me
See Curtis looking high, Curtis looking low
Shot poor Delia down, good people, with a fateful forty-four
* * *
Judge, he say to Curtis, boy, what's this noise about
It's all about some rounders, Judge, they trying to run me out
Curtis he ask the judge, tell me what might be my fine
Judge, he say, poor boy, you got ninety-nine
Curtis in the jailhouse, drinking from a silver cup
Delia's gone to the graveyard and she may not never get up
Delia, oh, Delia, how can this be
You loved all those rounders but you never really did love me
Delia, oh, Delia, how can this be
You loved all those rounders but you never really did love me
David Bromberg's first record is where I learned this and
swiped the guitar part. JN
DT #657
Laws I5
JN
apr96
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!