And I destroyed that poor boy's soul

He reeled and he staggered and he fell to the ground
And then he gave one dying moan
He wrapped his arms around my little girl's neck,
Sayin' "Honey won't ya take me home?"

So put them handcuffs on me boys,
And lead me to that freight-car gate
I have no friends or relations there,
No one for to go my bail

So pass around that ole long-neck bottle
And we'll all go on a spree:
Today saw the last of Wild Bill Jones,
And tomorrow'll be the last of me.