Bugle John
Hey there Mr. ticket taker, won't you lay your gun ; I'm just a small town boy ; Much like anyone ; I ain't no troublemaker, won't you cut some slack ; Gotta get out, gotta go ; You know the only way is through these tracks ; Come on little two time baby, I did you no harm ; Loved you from a mile, I took you to my daddy's farm ; Still you left me with the bottle, left me high and dry ; If you leave me for another ; I'd rather watch you turning blue and die ; Hey now judge, your honor, sir ; I swear I didn't know ; Think somebody's drugged my whiskey back a while ago ; I can't wear this ball and chain ; I can't bend these bars ; Better let me outta here before I make somebody here see stars ; Wait a minute, Mr. Hangman ; Hold on with that noose ; Got myself a rich old daddy ; Turn the cannons loose ; See you all in hell, I swear that judgment day will come ; I will perish with the sound of screeching bugles and the roll of drums; 