Wake up Wake up darling Cory,
What makes you sleep so sound?
Well the highway robbers are coming, and they're raiding through your town.
Last night I laid on my pillow,
You know that I laid on my bed,
With the cold prison bars around me,
And the concrete all under my head.
Its thirty miles to???
Its sixty to???
and I respect the used life of a many poor married man.
Its fifteen cents is all the money I got,
One dollar is all I crave,
All I need is a forty four gun,
To put you in your lonesome grave.
When Im dead and buried,
My friends will be standing around,
Pour a quart of whiskey on my breast,
And watch that poor rounder go down.