Dyin’ Crapshooter's Blues
Blind Willie McTell (capo 2. band)
tab by Torbjørn Nymo (metonymo @ mail . ru)
Little Jesse was a gambler, night and day
Well, he used crooked cards and
A sinful guy, good hearted, but had no soul
Heart was hard and cold like ice
Jesse was a wild reckless gambler, won a gang of change
Although' a many gambler's heart he left in pain
When he began to spend a-loose his money, he began to be blue and all alone
But boy, this heart had even turned to stone
What broke Jesse's heart, while he was blue and all alone
Sweet Lorena packed up and gone
Police walked up and shot my friend Jesse down
(He said) boy, I got to die today
He had a gang of crapshooters
and gamblers at his bedside
Here are the words he had to say:
Exactly how I want to go (How
Eight crapshooters to be my pallbearers, let them be veiled down in black
I want nine men going to the graveyard, buddy, and eight men comin' back
I want a gang of gamblers
gathered 'round my coffin-side
Crooked card printed on my hearse
Don't say the crapshooters will never grieve over me
My life been a doggone curse
Send poker players to the graveyard, 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 solicitor
who jailed me fourteen times
put a pair of dice in my shoes (then what else?)
Let a deck of cards be my
I got the dyin’ crapshooter's blues
Sixteen real good crapshooters, sixteen bootleggers to sing a song
Sixteen racket men gamblin', couple tend bar while I'm rollin' along
He wanted 22 womens out of the Hampton Hotel, 26 off-a South Bell
29 women out of North Atlanta, know little Jesse didn't pass out so swell
His head was achin', heart was
Little Jesse went down bouncin' and jumpin' […went to hell bouncin’…]
Folks, don't be standin' 'round ol' Jesse cryin'
He wants everybody to do the
Charleston whiles he's dyin’
One foot up, and a toenail
Throw my friend Jesse in the hoodoo wagon
Come here mama with that can of booze
The dyin’ crapshooter's, blues,
The dyin’ crapshooter's blues...
coda from another version
The Dyin Crapshooter's, leavin'
The Dyin' Crapshooter's, goin'
With the Dyin' Crapshooter's
Dyin’ Crapshooter's Blues
(from "Atlanta Twelve String", capo 2. fret)
: . . . : . . . : . . . : . . .
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--0---0-0-0-0-0---0---------------0-------0-------0---0---3---3-------0-----|
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--1/--2-2-2-2-2---1-------2-------2---2---2---1---------------1---2---2-----|
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--2--------------(2)--- --2----2------2---0---|
--0-------3-------0---- --0----0---0--0---0---|
--2-------2-------2---- --2----2---2--2---0---|
--1------(1)-----(1)--- --1----1---1------2---|
--2------(2)-----(2)--- --2----x---x------2---|
----------------------- -------2--------------|
--2-------(2)--(0)--- -(3)-----------------(0)--0--|
---0------(0)--(0)--- -(0)-----------------(0)--0--|
----2------2----0---- --0-------------------1---1--|
-----1-----1----2---- --0-------------------0---0--|
------2----2----2---- --2-------------------2---2--|
-------0--------0---- --3----3----2----0----0------|
Descending bass (replaces A7 D7 G) (x = mute):
E7 e d c h a g g f# f e Em ...
--0---------------------------------------------------------------------0-0------|
--0-----------------------------------------------------------------0---0-0------|
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--0-----------x-----x-----x-----x-----------5-----4-----3-----2-----2---2--------|
--2-----------5-----3-----2-----0-----------------------------------2------------|
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I got the dyin’ crapshooter's blues...