My mother used to sing this song the parts I remember are:


Two convicts were talking in a lonely prison cell.
Talking to each other, of their past lives they did tell.

"As I set out one evening to rob a mansion grand.
My tools were in my pocket my revolver in my hand."

I climbed in through the window I heard an awful cry
I fired a shot then cried out loud, "My God! I've shot my child!"

Not a friend in this whole wide world, not a friend to call my own,
I'm praying to God that I may die praying to Him alone.

Oh, how I miss him! There's no one here can tell,
No place on earth to shelter me but this lonely prison cell.