Jesse James

It was on a Wednesday night, the moon was shining bright,

He stopped the Glendale train,

And the people all did say for many miles away,

It was robbed by Frank and Jesse James.

CHORUS:

Jesse had a wife to mourn for his life,

Three children, they were brave,

But that dirty little coward that shot Mister Howard,

Has laid Jesse James in his grave.

Jesse was a man, a friend to the poor,

He’d never see a man suffer pain,

And with his brother Frank he robbed the Chicago bank,

And stopped the Glendale train.

It was Robert Ford, that dirty little coward,

I wonder how he does feel,

For he ate of Jesse’s bread and he slept in Jesse’s bed,

Then he laid Jesse James in his grave.

It was his brother Frank that robbed the Gallatin bank,
And carried the money from the town,
It was in this very place that they had a little race,
For they shot Captain Sheets to the ground.

They went to the crossing not very far fro there,
And there they did the same;
And the agent on his knees he delivered up the keys,
To the outlaws Frank and Jesse James.

It was on a Saturday night, Jesse was at home,

Talking to his family brave,

Robert Ford came along like a thief in the night,

And laid Jesse James in his grave.

Jesse went to his rest with his hand on his breast,

The devil will be upon his knee,

He was born one day in the county of Clay

And he came from a solitary race.

How people held their breath when they heard of Jesse's death,
And wondered how he ever came to die,
'Twas one of the gang, dirty Robert Ford,
That shot Jesse James on the sly.

Jesse went to rest with his hand on his breast;
He died with a smile on his face,
He was born one day in the country of Clay,
And came from a solitary race.

~ Anonymous