LYRICS
Pink Anderson
Gonna Tip Out Tonight
I says go on girl
don't sing them blues to me
Because I'm sweet
as any man can be
She even told me
to my face
That any old rounder
sure can take my place
Said I'm getting tired
of your lowdown ways
I'm going back
to my babe today
So come on girl
honey you can't bluff
I'm going to tip out tonight
and I'm going to strut my stuff
go to top of page
I Got Mine
Well I went down to a big crap game, it certainly was against my will
I lost every dog-gone nickel I had but a greenback dollar bill
They boys had a bet laying on the floor, and my buddy's point was nine
The police come in and got all of them, But I got mine.
I got mine, I got mine
I grabbed that money and out the back door I went flyin'
Ever since that big crap game I been living' on chicken and wine
I'm a leader in high society since I got mine.
Now I went down to a turkey feast, and that dinner certainly fine
Fifteen minutes 'fore the table was service, all the boys just fell in line
When they brought them gobblers in, Uncle Joe, how his eyes did shine
Talk about wrestlin' and grabbin', Now I got mine.
I got mine, I got mine
I grabbed that turkey and out the back door, I went flyin'
I tried to make it to a hidin' place, but I didn't get there in time.
Some rascal grabbed me by my coat and I got mine.
Well, I went over to my best gal's house, and the hour was just about nine.
I wasn't dressed up like Henry Ford, but I was feeling' twice as fine.
Caught her sittin' on another fella's lap, I didn't like that sign.
I told that fella what I thought of him, and I got got mine.
I got mine, I got mine
I grabbed my jacket and out the back door I went Flyin'
That rascal grabbed a big shotgun and he used it mighty fine
Talk about a rascal runnin', I got mine.
I know a place, it's over on North Fourth Street
It's the only place on a Saturday night we gamblers care to meet
Some go there for a haircut, and some go there for a scrap
But you see my buddy and me down there, we mean to shoot some crap.
I mean 7 come 11, won't you come come come
If I don't see those 11 dots, I'm done done done
If I see police 'fore he sees me, gonna run run run
I'm a leader in high society, since I got mine.
go to top of page
In the jailhouse now
I had an old friend name Campbell
Campbell used to steal and gamble
Made his living cheating all the while (yessir)
Had a little game he called euchre
Blackjack dice and poker
Thought he was the smartest dude in town
But I just found out Monday
Campbell got locked up Sunday
They got him in the jailhouse down in town
They got Campbell in the jail
No one to go his bail
That judge he won't accept no fine (they got'm)
He's in the jailhouse now
He's in the jailhouse now
I told Campbell once or twice
Stop playing cards and shooting dice
He's up on Broad Street now
(he's hardheaded, pay nobody no mind but they got'm)
I remember last election
When the white folks was in action
Trying to get theyself a president
A colored man by the name of Bill Austin
Walked from New York to Boston
Just to find a colored sentiment
Now my brother Bill's a voter
Bill's a great promoter
Always looking for some good advice
So they told Bill to go to the polls
And vote ????
Instead of voting once the fool voted twice (that settled it)
He's on the rock pile now
He's on the rock pile now
I told Bill to stay at home
And let other people's business alone
He's down in Woodruff now
(Hardheaded you know, wouldn't pay nobody no mind but they got to put him somewhere.
He ain't like me)
I walked up to town on Friday
I met a girl named Idey
I thought she was the prettiest girl in town (mmmmm)
She began to call me honey
And I began to spend all my money
We walked into a swell café and set down
Folks, I made sure I were in it
I was spending every minute
Buying white whiskey homebrew and wine everything by the quart
But when I went to pay that man
I found that lady's hand
In my pocket where my money was (that settled it)
She's in the graveyard now
She's in the graveyard now
I told the judge to his face
That woman's hand was out of place
She's in the apeyard now
go to top of page
The Wreck Of The Old 97
On the 29th day of one November morning
When the cloud was hangin' low
97 pulled out from Washington city
Like an arrow shot from the bow
97 was the fastest mail train
The South had ever seen
And it run from New York by the way of Washington
Through Atlanta down in New Orlean (sic)
I was standing on the mount one cold and frosty morning
Watching the smoke from below
That were comin' from the funnel of that black and dusty engine
Way down up on that Southern road
It was 97, the fastest mail train
That run the Southern line
And when she pulled in, at Lynchburg, Virginia
She was forty-seven minutes behind
Steve Brady, he was an engineerah (sic)
And a very brave man was he
Well, there're many good men have lost their life
For the railroad company
When they give him his orders at Monroe, Virginia
Said, "Steve, you's way behind.
This is not 38, but it's old 97,
You must put her in Spencer on time."
Steve, he smiled when he said to his black and dusty fireman
"Throw me in a little more coal
And as soon as we cross this White Oak Mountain
You can watch my driver roll."
It was mighty rough road from Lynchburg to Danville
The line on a 3-mile grade
It were on that hill where he lost his average
You can see what a jump he made
Steve come down that hill makin' 90 miles an hour
His whistle began to scream
Steve was found in the wreck with his hand upon the throttle
And scalded to death by the steam
Steve, he had a little wife and also two children
Who were lyin' at home in bed
They received the sad message saying, "Husband and father
Now'm is lyin' in North Danville, dead."
Now, ladies, you ought to let this be a warning
This, from now and on
Never speak hard words to your true lovin' husband
They may leave you and never return
go to top of page
All rights to lyrics included on this page belong to the artists and authors of the works