Dying Crapshooter's Blues

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Dying Crapshooter's Blues, Blind Willie McTell
5 November 1940, Atlanta, LoC session
Complete Library of Congress Recordings (1940) (Document BDCD-6001)
Legendary Library of Congress Session (Elektra 301)
Deep River of Song - Georgia (Rounder 11661-1828-2)
The Classic Years (JSP box set, JSP7711)

[Intro]

Little Jesse was a gambler, night and day
He used crooked cards and dice
He was a sinful boy, good hearted but had no soul
His heart was hard and cold like ice

Little Jesse was a wild, reckless gambler, won a gang of change
And many a-gambler's heart he left in pain
Little Jessie begin to lose his money but he was all alone
And his heart had even turned to stone

The police walked up and shot my friend Jesse down
Said "Boys I got to die today"
He had a gang of crapshooters and gamblers at his bedside
But here are the words he had to say

I guess I ought to know
How're I wants to go

[spoken] How you wanna go, Jesse? [/spoken]

I wants eight crapshooters for my pallbearers
Let 'em all be dressed there in black
I want nine men going to the graveyard
But only eight mens comin' back

I wants a gang of gamblers gathered around my coffin side
With a crooked card printed on my hearse
Don't say the crapshooters'll never grieve over me
My life been a doggone curse

Send poker players to the graveyard
Dig my grave with the ace of spades
I want twelve polices in my funeral march
High sheriff playin' blackjack, lead the parade

I want the judge and solic'ter who jailed me 14 times
Put a pair of dice in my shoes
Let a deck of cards be my tombstone
I got the dyin' crapshooter's blues

I want sixteen real good crapshooters
Sixteen bootleggers to sing a song
Sixteen buck-riders gamblin'
With a couple tends bar while I'm rollin' along

He wanted 22 womens outta the Hampton Hotel
26 off-a South Bell
29 women outta North Atlanta
Know that little Jesse didn't pass out so swell

His head was achin', heart was thumpin'
Little Jesse went down bouncin' and jumpin'
Folks don't be standin' around ole Jesse cryin'
He wants everybody to do the Charleston whilst he dyin'

One foot up, a toenail dragging
Throw my buddy Jesse in the hoodoo wagon
Come here mama with that can of booze
He's got the dyin' crapshooter's, passin' out
Well the dyin' crapshooter's blues


Dying Crapshooter's Blues, Blind Willie McTell
1949, Atlanta
Atlanta Twelve String (Atlantic 82366-2)

[Intro]

Little Jesse was a gambler, night and day
Well, he used crooked cards and dice
Sinful boy, good hearted but had no soul
Heart was hard and cold like ice

Little Jesse was a wild, reckless gambler, and won a gang of change
And many a-gambler's heart he led in pain
When he began to spend and lose his money he began to be blue and all alone
But boy his heart had even turned to stone

What broke Jesse's heart while he was blue and all alone
Sweet Lorena packed up and gone
Police walked up and shot my friend Jesse down
Boys I got to die today

He had a gang of crapshooters and gamblers at his bedside
Here are the words he had to say

I guess I ought to know
Exactly how're I want to go

[spoken] How you wanna go, Jesse? [/spoken]

Eight crapshooters to be my pallbearers
Let 'em be veiled down in black
I want nine men going to the graveyard, buddy
And eight men comin' back

I wants a gang of gamblers gathered 'round my coffin-side
A crooked card printed on my hearse
Don't say the crapshooters'll never grieve over me
My life been a doggone curse

Send poker players to the graveyard
Dig my grave with the ace of spades
I want twelve polices in my funeral march
High sheriff playin' blackjack, lead the parade

I want the judge and solic'ter who jailed me 14 times
Put a pair of dice in my shoes
[spoken] And what else? [/spoken]
Let a deck of cards be my tombstone, buddy
I got the dyin' crapshooter's blues

Sixteen real good crapshooters
Sixteen bootleggers to sing a song
Sixteen racket men gamblin'
Couple tend bar while I'm rollin' along

He wanted 22 womens outta the Hampton Hotel
26 off-a South Bell
29 women outta North Atlanta
Know that Jesse didn't pass out so swell

Ah his head was achin', heart was thumpin'
Little Jesse went down bouncin' and jumpin'
Folks, don't be standin' around ole Jesse cryin'
He wants everybody to do the Charleston whilst he dyin'

One foot up and a toenail dragging
Throw my friend Jesse in the hoodoo wagon
Come here mama with that can of booze
The dyin' crapshooter's, blues I mean
The dyin' crapshooter's blues


The Dyin' Crapshooter's Blues, Blind Willie McTell
September 1956, Atlanta
Last Session (Prestige/Bluesville OBCCD-517-2 82366-2)

[Intro]

Little Jesse was a gambler, night and day
He used crooked cards and dice
Sinful guy, good hearted but had no soul
Heart was hard and cold like ice

Jesse was a wild reckless gambler, won a gang of change
Although many gambler's heart he led in pain
Began to spend and lose his money, began to be blue
Sad and all alone his heart had even turned to stone

What broke Jesse's heart while he was blue and all alone
Sweet Lorena packed up and gone
Police walked up and shot my friend Jesse down
Boys I got to die today

He had a gang of crapshooters and gamblers at his bedside
Here are the words he had to say

I guess I ought to know
Exactly how're I want to go

[spoken] How you wanna go, Jesse? [/spoken]

Eight crapshooters to be my pallbearers
Let 'em be veiled down in black
I want nine men going to the graveyard, bubba
And eight men comin' back

I wants a gang of gamblers gathered 'round my coffin-side
Crooked card printed on my hearse
Don't say the crapshooters'll never grieve over me
My life been a doggone curse

Send poker players to the graveyard
Dig my grave with the ace of spades
I want twelve polices in my funeral march
High sheriff playin' blackjack, lead the parade

I want the judge and solic'ter who jailed me 14 times
Put a pair of dice in my shoes
[spoken] Then what? [/spoken]
Let a deck of cards be my tombstone
I got the dyin' crapshooter's blues

Sixteen real good crapshooters
Sixteen bootleggers to sing a song
Sixteen racket men gamblin'
Couple tend bar while I'm rollin' along

He wanted 22 womens outta the Hampton Hotel
26 off-a South Bell
29 women outta North Atlanta
No, little Jesse didn't pass out so swell

His head was achin', heart was thumpin'
Little Jesse went to hell bouncin' and jumpin'
Folks, don't be standin' around ole Jesse cryin'
He wants everybody to do the Charleston whilst he dyin'

One foot up, a toenail dragging
Throw my buddy Jesse in the hoodoo wagon
Come here mama with that can of booze
The dyin' crapshooter's, leavin' the world
The dyin' crapshooter's, goin' down slow
With the dyin' crapshooter's blues
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