I'll sing you a song, it ain't very long
Bout an old man who never done wrong
How he died nobody can say
They found him dead in the street one day.
Well, the crowd, they gathered one fine morn'
At the man whose clothes 'n' shoes were torn
There on the sidewalk he did lay
They stoped 'n' stared 'n' walked their way.
Well, the p'liceman come up and he looked around
"Get up, old man, or I'm a-takin' you down"
He jabbed him once with his billy club
And the old man then rolled off the curb.
Well he jabbed him again and loudly said,
"Call the wagon; this man is dead"
They wagon come, they loaded him in
I never saw the man again.
I've sung you my song, it ain't very long
'Bout an old man who never done wrong
How he died nobody can say
They found him dead in the street one day.
