Lyrics:

John Hardy was a brave little man
He carried two guns ev'ry day
Killed him a man in the West Virginia land
Oughta seen poor Johnny gettin' away, Lord, Lord
Oughta seen poor Johnny gettin' away
John Hardy was standin' at the barroom door
He didn't have a hand in the game
Up stepped his woman and threw down fifty cents
Says, 'Deal my man in the game, Lord, Lord...'
John Hardy lost that fifty cents
It was all he had in the game
He drew the forty-four that he carried by his side
Blowed out that poor Negro's brains, Lord, Lord...
John Hardy had ten miles to go
And half of that he run
He run till he come to the broad river bank
He fell to his breast and he swum, Lord, Lord...
He swum till he came to his mother's house
'My boy, what have you done?'
'I've killed a man in the West Virginia Land
And I know that I have to be hung, Lord, Lord...'
He asked his mother for a fifty-cent piece
'My son, I have no change'
'Then hand me down my old forty-four
And I'll blow out my agurvatin' (sic) brains, Lord, Lord...'
John Hardy was lyin' on the broad river bank
As drunk as a man could be
Up stepped the police and took him by the hand
Sayin' 'Johnny, come and go with me, Lord, Lord...'
John Hardy had a pretty little girl
The dress she wore was blue
She come a-skippin' through the old jail hall
Sayin', 'Poppy, I'll be true to you, Lord, Lord...'
John Hardy had another little girl
The dress that she wore was red
She came a-skippin' through the old jail hall
Sayin' 'Poppy, I'd rather be dead, Lord, Lord...'
They took John Hardy to the hangin' ground
They hung him there to die
The very last words that poor boy said
'My forty gun never told a lie, Lord, Lord...'
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