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Twenty-One Years (Bob Miller) The judge says, "Stand up, boy, and dry up your tears, You're sentenced to Nashville for twenty-one years." So dry up your eyes, babe, and say you'll be mine, For twenty-one years, babe, is a mighty long time. I hear the train whistling, it'll be here on time, To take me to Nashville to serve out my time; The steam from the whistle, the smoke from the stack, I know you'll be true blue, until I get back. Go the governor, upon your sweet soul, If you can't get a pardon, try to get a parole; If I had the governor where the governor's got me Before Tuesday morning the governor'd be free. Six months have gone by, babe, I wish I was dead This dirty old jailhouse, the floor for a bed; It's raining, it's hailing, stars give me no light Darlin', please tell me why you never write. I've counted the days, babe, I've counted the nights I've counted the footsteps, I've counted the lights; I've counted the minutes, l've counted the stars, I've counted a million of these prison bars. I've counted on you, babe, to get me a break I guess you've forgot, babe, I'm here for your sake You know who is guilty, you know it too well But I'II rot in this jailhouse before I will tell. Come all you young fellows, with a heart brave and true Don't believe any woman, you're doomed if you do; Don't trust any woman, no matter what kind, For twenty-one years, boys, is a mighty long time. From Ozark Folksongs, Randolph Collected from Lillian Short, MO 1942 Composed by Bob Miller in 1930, this was much-recorded (Miller, McFarland & Gardner, Renfro Valley Boys, RObertson, Puckett, Robison, Roberts, Luther) DT #354 Laws E16 RG apr96
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!