In America they took the music of two low-down people, poor whites from mountains and poor back from plantations. This is how we got blues and jazz.

St. James Infirmary appeals tremendously. Because of names this text version has it all - jazz, south, Hillbillies and somebody called MacKennedy:

ST. JAMES INFIRMARY

I went down to St. James Infirm'ry,

I saw my baby there.

Lying on a table

So cold, so sweet, so fair.

I went up to see the doctor,

"She's very low", he said.

I went back to see my baby

And great God she was lying there dead.

I went down to old Joe's barroom

Down on the corner by the square.

They were serving drink as usual

And the usual crowd was there.

On my left stood Joe MacKennedy.

His eyes were bloodshot red.

He turned to the crowd around him

And these are the words that he said.

Let her go. Let her go. God bless her,

Where ever she may be.

She may search this wide world over

But shel'll never find another man like me.

When I die please bury me

In a high top Stetson hat.

Put a gold piece on my watch chain,

So the boys will know I died standing pat.

Get six gamblers to carry my coffin.

Six chorus girls to sing my song.

Put a jazz band on my tailgate

To raise hell as we roll along.

This is the end of my story

So let's have another round of booze.

And if anyone should ask you

Just tell him I've got the St. James Infirm'ry blues.