Collected & Transcribed
by Mary Celestia Parler
I am a bold highwayman, Cole Younger is my name,
My many depredations has brought my friends to shame,
A-robbin' of the Northfield bank, of which Brother Bob did say,
"Oh, Cole, when we undertake that job, we'll surely curse the day.
There are no bolder robbers than the ones of which I tell,
The California miner, with whom our lot befell,
We robbed him of his money, boys, and bid him go his way,
Of which we shall be sorry until our dyin' day.
Then we started for Texas, that good old Lone Star State,
Out on Nebrasky prairies the James boys we did meet,
With guns, knives, revolvers, we all set down to play,
While drinkin' of good whiskey to pass the time away.
Then we mounted our horses and northward we did go,
To that God-forsaken country called Minnesotio.
We rode them of our father's death, and tried to win the praise,
We'll fight those Anti-Guerilla boys until the day we die.
We stationed our pickets in Northfield, and into the bank did go,
'Twas there upon the counter we struck the fatal blow,
Saying, "Hand over your money, boys, without any further delay,
For we're the notorious Younger boys, and got no time to play."
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