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DELIA Delia was a gambling girl, she gambled all around Oh, she was a gambling girl, she would lay her money down She's all I've got is gone Delia's dear old mother took a trip out west When she returned, little Delia'd gone to her rest Delia's mammy weeped, Delia's daddy mourned It wouldn't have been so bad if that poor gal had died at home Call out the rubber-tired hearses, the double-seated hacks They took poor Delia to the graveyard, boys, but they never brought her back * * * High up on the rooftops, high as I can be Looking at them rounders who are looking out for me See Curtis looking high, Curtis looking low Shot poor Delia down, good people, with a fateful forty-four * * * Judge, he say to Curtis, boy, what's this noise about It's all about some rounders, Judge, they trying to run me out Curtis he ask the judge, tell me what might be my fine Judge, he say, poor boy, you got ninety-nine Curtis in the jailhouse, drinking from a silver cup Delia's gone to the graveyard and she may not never get up Delia, oh, Delia, how can this be You loved all those rounders but you never really did love me Delia, oh, Delia, how can this be You loved all those rounders but you never really did love me David Bromberg's first record is where I learned this and swiped the guitar part. JN DT #657 Laws I5 @gambler @death filename[ DELIAGO2 JN apr96 |
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