I went down to St. James Infirmary Saw my baby there She was stretched out on a long, white table So cold, so sweet, so fair Let her go, let her go, God bless her Wherever she may be She can search this wide world over But she'll never find a sweet man like me (I'm bragging) When I die, bury me in straight lace shoes And a box-back suit, double-breasted Put a 20 dollar gold piece on my watch chain Yes, so the boys will know that I died standin' pat

It was down by old Joe's barroom, on the corner of the square They were serving drinks as usual, and the usual crowd was there On my left stood Big Joe McKennedy, and his eyes were bloodshot red And he turned his face to the people, these were the very words he said I was down to St. James infirmary, I saw my baby there She was stretched out on a long white table, So sweet, cool and so fair Let her go, let her go, God bless her Wherever she may be She may search this whole wide world over Never find a sweeter man as me When I die please bury me in my high top Stetson hat Put a twenty dollar gold piece on my watch chain The gang'll know I died standing pat Let her go, let her go God bless her Wherever she may be She may search this wide world over Never find a sweeter man as me I want six crapshooters to be my pallbearers Three pretty women to sing a song Stick a jazz band on my hearse wagon Raise hell as I stroll along Let her go Let her go God bless her Wherever she may be She may search this whole wide World over She'll never find a sweeter Man as me

Oh, Koko Well, folks, I'm goin' down to St. James Infirmary See my little baby there She's stretched out on a long, white table Well, she looks so good, so cold, so fair Let her go, let her go, God bless her Wherever she may be You may search this whole wide world over But you'll never find another sweetheart like me Take apart your bones and put 'em back together Tell your mama that you're somebody new Feel the breeze blowin', tell 'em all, look out, here it comes Now I can say whatever I feel like to you Then get me six craps-shootin' pallbearers Let a chorus girl sing me a song Put a red-hot jazz band at the top so that we can raise Hallelujah as we go along, well Well, folks, now that you have heard my story Say, boy, hand me another shot of that rye And if anyone else should ask you Just tell 'em I've got some of those St. James Infirmary blues