Chapman-Whitney
Take me to the bottom
Roll me in my hearse
Take me to the bottom
Life's been a doggone curse.
I want eight crapshooters to be my pallbearers
Let 'em be pale 'n' black
I want nine men going to the graveyard buddy
Eight men coming back.
I want a gang o' gamblers gathered ‘round my coffin side
A crooked card in my hearse
A game of blackjack played over me
Let the winner get his just desserts.
Take me to the bottom
Roll me in my hearse
Take me to the bottom
Life's been a doggone curse.
I want six good poolhall rumblers
Six Streetwalkers to sing my song
Sixteen racketmen gambling
While I'm rolling along.
I want twenty-two bootleggers in some hotel
To drink to me from whiskey stills
I got thirty-nine women to remember me good
How I pa**ed by so swell.
Take me to the bottom
Roll me in my hearse
Take me to the bottom
'Cause life's been a doggone, been a doggone curse.
My head is achin', my heart is thumpin'
But I'm going down boundin' and a-jumpin'
Folks no need to stand around cryin'
Want everybody up and dancin' when I'm dying.
I want one foot up, toenail draggin'
Throw me in that hoodoo wagon
Come here, mama, with that can o' booze
And gimme gimme what I choose.
Take me to the bottom
Roll me in my hearse
Take me to the bottom.