Classic Poem

Good morning, Judge
what may be my fine
Good morning, Judge, what may be my fine
Fifty dollars and eleven twenty-nine

They arrest me for murder
I ain't never harmed a man
Arrest me for murder and, lord, I ain't harmed a ma-a-an
Women hollered murder and I ain't raised my hand

I ain't got no body
get me out on bond
I ain't got no body to get me out on bond
I would not mind, but I ain't done nothing wrong

Please, Judge Harsh
make it light as you possibly can
Please, Judge Harsh, make it light as you possibly can
I ain't done no work, Judge, in I don't know when

My woman come a-running
with a hundred dollars in her hand
Come a-running, my woman, with a hundred dollars in her hand
Crying, Judge, please spare my man

One hundred dollars won't do
better run and get your three
One hundred dollars won't do, better run and get your three
I can keep your man from the pen-i-ten-tia-ry

Baby, I'm arrested
please don't grieve and moan
'Cause I'm arrested, baby, please don't grieve and moan
Penitentiary seems just like my home

People all hollerin'
'bout what in the world they will do
Judge, the people hollerin' 'bout what in the world they will do
Lots of people had justice, they'd be in the penitentiary too