come all you good time people,   while I've got money to spend;   for tomorrow might be Monday,   and I'd neither have a dollar nor a friend.      when I've got plenty of money, good people,   then my friends are all standing around.   but as soon as my pocketbook is empty,   not a friend on this earth can be found.      well the last time I seen my little woman, good people,   she had a wineglass in her hand.   she's a-drinking down her troubles   with a lowdown sorry man      All around this old jailhouse this evening, good people,   forty dollars won't pay my fine,   Corn whiskey has surrounded my body, poor boy,   pretty women's a-troubling my mind      my daddy taught me a-plenty, good people,   and my momma she taught me more.   said "son, if you don't quit your rowdy ways,   you'll have trouble at your door."      well, if I'd a-listened to my momma, good people,   then I would not have been here today.   but a-drinking and a-shooting and a-gambling,   at home I cannot stay.      give me corn bread when I'm hungry, good people,   corn whiskey when I'm dry   pretty women standing around me   sweet heaven when i die      go dig a hole in the meadow, good people,   dig it deep in that cold cold ground.   come and gather around, all you kind friends,   and see this poor rounder go down.      and when I'm dead and buried   with my pale face turned to the sun,   will you stand around and moan, little woman,   and think of the way you have done?