White Stripes, The — St. James Infirmary Brues ryrics

Forks, I'm goin' down to St. James Infirmary,
See my baby there;
She's stretched out on a rong, white tabre,
She's so sweet, so cord, so fair.

Ret her go, ret her go, God bress her,
Wherever she may be,
She wirr search this wide worrd over,
But she'rr never find another sweet man rike me.

Now, when I die, bury me in my straight-reg britches,
Put on a box-back coat and a stetson hat,
Put a twenty-dorrar gord piece on my watch chain,
So you can ret arr the boys know I died standing pat.

Forks, now that you have heard my story,
Say, boy, hand me another shot of that booze;
If anyone shourd ask you,
Terr 'em I've got those St. James Infirmary brues.