Collected by Karl T. Gosnell For Mary C. Parler Transcribed by Frances Majors
Sung by Dickie Jewell Ola, Arkansas November 27, 1958
Reel 272, Item 21
The courtroom was crowded,
The judge waited there.
My mother was crying When I left my chair.
The judge says, stand up, boy,
And dry your tears. Your sentence to Nashville Is twenty-one years.
But twenty-one years
Is a terrible long time.
Twenty-one years, dear,
Is almost for life.
Well, I've waited six months, dear, And I wish I were dead.
I wonder why you Are not writing to me.
It's raining, it’s hailing,
The floor for a bed.
But I'd rot in this jail house Before I’d tell.
I received a letter From old Nashville town; But as I read this letter,
My spirit broke down.
For it said that Irma Just Was so happily married; Twenty-one years, dear,
Is all over you.
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