It was down in old Joe's barroom, on the corner by the square
Where the drinks were served as usual, and the usual crowd was there
On my left stood Big Joe McKinsey
His eyes were bloodshot red
He turned to the room around him
And these were the very words he said
I went down to St. James Infirmary
I saw my baby there
She was stretched out on a long white table
So pale, so cold, so fair
Let her go, let her go, God bless her
Wherever she might be
She can search the whole world over
Never find a better man as me
When I die won't you please bury me in my high top Stetson hat
Put a twenty dollar gold piece on my watch chain
So my boys'll know I died standing pat
I want six crapshooters for my pallbearers
Six pretty girls to sing a song
Put a jazz band on my hearse wagon
To raise hell as we stroll along
I went down to St. James Infirmary
I saw my baby there
She was stretched out on a long white table
So pale, so cold, so fair
Let her go, let her go, God bless her
Wherever she may be
She can search the whole world over
Never find a better man as me
That is all of my story
Have a little shot of booze
And if anybody should ever ask you
Just tell 'em, you've got the St. James Infirmary Blues