I am one of a band of highwaymen, Cole Younger is my name
My crimes and depredations have brought my friends to shame
The robbing of the Northfield Bank, the same I can’t deny
For now I am a prisoner, in the Stillwater jail I lie.
‘Tis of a bold, high robbery, a story to you I’ll tell
Of a California miner who unto us befell
We robbed him of his money and bid him go his way
For which I will be sorry until my dying day.
And then we started homeward, when brother Bob did say
Now, Cole, we will buy fast horses and on them ride away
We will ride to avenge our father’s death and try to win the prize
We will fight those anti-guerrillas until the day we die.
And then we rode towards Texas, that good old Lone Star State
But on Nebraska’s prairies the James boys we did meet
With knives, guns and revolvers we all sat down to play
A-drinking of good whiskey to pass the time away.
A Union Pacific railway train was the next we did surprise
And the crimes done by our bloody hands bring tears into my eyes
The engineerman and fireman killed, the conductor escaped alive
And now their bones like mouldering beneath Nebraska’s skies.
Then we saddled horses, northwestward we did go
To the God-forsaken country called Min-ne-so-te-o
I had my eye on the Northfield bank when brother Bob did say
Now, Cole, if you undertake the job, you will surely curse the day.
But I stationed out my pickets and up to the bank did go
And there upon the counter I struck my fatal blow
Just hand us over your money and make no further delay
We are the famous Younger brothers, we spare no time to pray.