I remember hearing this from my mother, who learned it from my grandfather who had travelled across the US with his banjo in the 1920's, but I only recall the one verse.

Oh, d'you ever go down to the wash woman's shanty
where water is scarce and whiskey is plenty
a-wade in the dirt, clear up to your knees
There's a bed in the corner all covered with fleas.

There's a three-legged stool and a table to match
and a door that flies open without any latch.