Collected by: Deanna Moore
Transcribed by: Doug Haynie
Arkansas Folklore Class
Sung by: RK Moore Benton, Arkansas October 23, 1960
Reel 382, Item 9
THE BOSTON BURGLAR
I was born in Boston City boys,
A place you all know well.
Brought up by honest parents The truth to you I'll tell.
Brought up by honest parents And raised most tenderly.
But I bore the name of a gambler At the age of twenty-three.
My character was taken And I was sent to jail.
My friends they found it all in vain To get me out on bail.
The jury found me guilty, boys,
The clerk he wrote it down.
The judge who passed my sentence Your're bound for Charles Town.
To see my aged father a'standing at the bar Likewise my dear old mother A'tearing out her hair. A'tearing out those long grey locks As the tears come trinkling down My son, my son what have you done You'r bound for Charles Town.
They put me on board on east-bound train One cold December day And every station that we passed I heard the people say,
"They've caught that Boston Burglar,
In strong chains he's bound down."
For some great crime or other I'm off for Charles Town.THE BOSTON BURGLAR, cont.
I have a girl in Boston Boys.
A girl that I love well.
If ever I gain my freedom Along with her I'll dwell.
If ever I gain my freedom, boys, Bad company I'll shun.
I'll quit that midnight rambling And drinking of bad rum.
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