Bandit Cole Younger

I am a noted highwayman,

Cole Younger is my name;

'Tis deeds and desperation

that brought my name to shame.

Robbing of the Northfield bank is

a thing I'll never deny,

But which I will be sorry of

until the day I die.

We started for old Texas,

that grand old Lone Star State;

'Twas there on Nebraska prairies

the James Boys we did meet.

With knives, gun, and revolvers,

we all sit down to play

A game of good old poker

to pass the time away.

Across Nebraska prairies

a Denver train we spy.

I says to Bob, "We'll rob her

as she goes rolling by."

We saddled up our horses,

northwestward we did go

To the godforsaken country

called Minnie-soh-tee-oh.

I had my eye on the Northfield bank

when brother Bob did say,

"Cole, if you under-to-take the job,

you'll always curse the day."

We stationed out our pickets,

up to the bank did go,

'Twas there upon the counter,

boys, we struck our fatal blow.

Saying, "Hand us out your money,

sir, and make no long delay.

We are the noted Younger boys,

and spend no time in play."

The cashier, being as true as steel,

refused our noted band.

'Twas Jesse James that pulled the trigger

that killed this noble man.

We run for life, for death was near,

four hundred on our trail.

We soon was overtaken

and landed safe in jail.

'Twas there in the Stillwater jail we lay,

a-wearing our lives away.

Two James boys left to tell the tale

of the sad and fateful day.