Delia (5) Delia, Delia, how can it be? You love that old rounder but you don't love me Well, that's one more rounder gone Delia, Delia sitting all around Some of your old rounders gonna pay my way back home Sitting on the housetop, high as I can see You love that old rounder, but you don't love me Delia's poor mother took a trip out West When she returned, Delia lyin' in rest Delia's mother wept, Delia's father moaned They'd have wanted their poor child to die at home Rubber tired buggy, two-seated hack, Took Delia to the graveyard, never brought her back Kenny lookin' high, Kenny lookin' low, Shot poor Delia with that hated .44 Delia, Delia, wouldn't take no one's advice Last words I heard her say were, "Jesus Christ!" Judge said to Kenny, "Here's a natural fact: you going to wait in jail till Delia come back" Kenny's in the basement, drinking from a silver cup Delia's in the graveyard, never come back up Kenny said to judge, "What's the fuss about? Just that no good woman trying to put me out" Here are the lyrics of Blind Willie McTell's version from a Library of Congress recording. I got them from Harry's blues lyrics online site. I have a very diff erent version somewhere, but I can't remember where. In his 'American Folk Poetry', Duncan Emrich includes a very long version under the title 'Delia Holmes' from the singing of Will Winn of Columbia, South Caroli na. He also gives a reference to an article in the December 1937 edition of Sout hern Folklore Quarterly: Chapman J. Milling 'Delia Holmes - A Neglected Negro Ballad'. DT #657 Laws I5 SX apr00
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