I went down to St. James´ Infirmary, To see my baby there, She was lying on a long white table, So weak, so cool, so fair. I went up to see the doctor, She´s very low he said, I went back to see my baby, Great God, she´s lying there dead. I went down to Old Jo´s bar room, On the corner of the square, There were seven drinks as per usual And the usual crowd was there. On my left stood Old Joe McIlby, His eyes were bloodshot red, He turned to the crowd that was standing around him, And these were the words he said. Let it go, let it go, God bless her wherever she may be, She may search the whole world over, But she´ll never find a man like me. Oh when I die please bury me, In my heart top Stetson hat, Put a gold piece on my watch chain, So they will know I standing in past. Get six gamblers to carry my coffin, And six chorus girls to sing my song, Put a jazz band on my tail gate, So they can raise hell as they go along. Now that´s the end of my story, Let´s have another round of booze, And if anyone should ask you, Tell them I got the St. James´ Infirmary Blues.