Jesse James was a lad that killed many a man,
He robbed the Glendale train,
He stole from the rich and he gave to the poor,
He'd a hand and a heart and a brain.
Well it was Robert Ford, that dirty little coward,
I wonder how he feels,
For he ate of Jesse's bread and he slept in Jesse's bed,
And he laid poor Jesse in his grave.
Well Jesse had a wife to mourn for his life,
Three children, they were brave,
Well that dirty little coward that shot Mr. Howard,
He laid poor Jesse in his grave.
Jesse was a man, a friend to the poor,
He'd never rob a mother or a child,
There never was a man with the law in his hand,
That could take Jesse James alive.
Jesse was a man, a friend to the poor,
He'd never see a man suffer pain,
And with his brother Frank he robbed the Chicago bank,
And stopped the Glendale train.
It was on a Saturday night and the moon was shining bright,
They robbed the Glendale train,
And people they did say o'er many miles away
It was those outlaws, they're Frank and Jesse James
Now the people held their breath when they heard of Jesse's death,
And wondered how he ever came to fall
Robert Ford, it was a fact, he shot Jesse in the back
While Jesse hung a picture on the wall
Now Jesse went to rest with his hand on his breast,
The devil will be upon his knee.
He was born one day in the County Clay,
And he came from a solitary race.
A somewhat different version, alternately titled I Wonder Where My Poor Old Jesse's Gone, is as follows:
Jesse James was a man that was knowed through all the land
For Jesse he was bold and bad and brave
But that dirty little coward that shot down Mr. Howard
Has went and laid poor Jesse in his grave
Oh I wonder where my poor old Jesse's gone
Oh I wonder where my poor old Jesse's gone
I will meet him in that land where I've never been before
And I wonder where my poor old Jesse's gone
Jesse and his brother, Frank, they robbed the Gallatin bank
And carried the money from the town
It was in that very place that they had a little race
And they shot Captain Sheets to the ground
It was on a Wednesday night and the moon was shining bright
They robbed the Glendale train
And the agent on his knees, delivered up the keys
To the outlaws, Frank and Jesse James
It was on a Friday night and the moon was shining bright
Bob Ford had been hiding in a cave
He had ate of Jesse's bread, he had slept in Jesse's bed
But he went and laid poor Jesse in his grave
Jesse James was alone a-straightening up his home
Stood on a chair to dust a picture frame
When Bob Ford fired the ball that pulled Jesse from the wall
And he went and laid poor Jesse in his grave
Jesse James has gone to rest with his hands upon his breast
There's many a man that never knowed his face
He was born one day in the county of Clay
And he came from a solitary race

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