I'll be singing this one -

Dying Crapshooter Blues - Willie McTell

Eight crapshooters to be my pallbearers
Let 'em be veiled down in black
I want nine men going to the graveyard, buddy
I want eight men coming back

I want a gang of gamblers gathered 'round my coffin-side
Crooked card printed on my hearse
My life has been a doggone curse

Well, well, well, well
Send poker players to the graveyard, buddy
Dig my grave with the ace of spades
I want twelve polices in my funeral march
High sheriff playin' blackjack, lead the parade

I want the judge and solic'ter who jailed me fourty times
Put a pair of dice in my shoes, what else
Let a deck of cards be my tombstone, buddy
I got the dying crapshooter blues

Sixteen real good crapshooters
Sixteen bootleggers to sing a song
I want sixteen racket men gamblin'
Couple tend bar while I'm rollin' along
Read more at http://www.songlyrics.com/moriarty/the-dying-crapshooter-blues-lyrics/#idJYQGY20FGGgXjT.99

let the mourners find their own tune.

voyager