Jesse James was a lad that killed a-many a man
He robbed the Danville train
But that dirty little coward that shot Mr. Howard
Has laid poor Jesse in his grave.
Poor Jesse had a wife to mourn for his life
Three children, they were brave
But the dirty little coward that shot Mr. Howard
Had laid poor Jesse in his grave.
It was Robert Ford, that dirty little coward
I wonder how he does feel
For he ate of Jesse’s bread and he slept in Jesse’s bed
Then laid poor Jesse in his grave.
Jesse was a man, a friend to the poor
He never would see a man suffer in pain
And with his brother Frank he robbed the Chicago bank
And stopped the Glendale train.
It was his brother Frank that robbed the Gallatin bank
And carried the money from the town
It was in this very place that they had a little race
For they shot Captain Sheets to the ground.
They went to the crossing not very far from there
And there they did the same
With the agent on his knees, he delivered up the keys
To the outlaws, Frank and Jesse James.
It was on Saturday night, Jesse was at home
Talking with his family brave
Robert Ford came along like a thief in the night
And laid poor Jesse in his grave.
The people held their breath when they heard of Jesse’s death
And wonder how he ever came to die
It was one of the gang called little Robert Ford
He shot poor Jesse on the sly.
Jesse went to his rest with his hand on his breast
The devil will be upon his knee
He was born one day in the county of Clay
And came from a solitary race.
This song was made by Billy Gashade
As soon as the new did arrive
He said there was no man with the law in his hand
Who could take Jesse James when alive.