two convicts once woes sitting inside a prison cell
the story of there past life to each other there would tell
ill tell you my past life story said the elder of the two
i had a wife a lovely wife and a little baby too

it woes once when i came home tired after working all day long
i found the fire had gone out and my wife she gone away
it woes then i took to drinking and became a gambler to
i mixed with bad companions and became a bergular to

it woes once when i went out steeling to rob a mansion grand
the tools were in my pocket and a revolver in my hand
as i crept through the window i herd a gentle voice
i fired a shot then cried out lord good god i shot my child
not a friend in all this wide world not a friend to call my own
praying to god that i might die praying to god all alone