State of Arkansas

(Tune: somewhere between Joe Bowers and a recitation)



My name is Charlie Brennan, from Charlestown I come.

I've traveled this wide world over, some ups and downs I've had.

I've traveled this wide world over, some ups and downs I saw,

But I never knew what mis'ry was till I hit old Arkansas.



I landed in St. Louis with ten dollars and no more.

I read the daily papers till both my eyes were sore.

I read them evening papers, until at last I saw

Ten thousand men were wanted in the State of Arkansas.



I wiped my eyes with great surprise when I read this happy news.

And straight off I went to see the agent, Billy Hughes.

He said "Pitch me five dollars, and a ticket you shall draw

To ride upon the railroad to the State of Arkansas.



I started off next morning at a quarter after five.

I started from St. Louis, half dead and half alive,

I bought me a quart of whiskey, my misery to thaw

And I got drunk as a boiled owl when I left for Arkansas.



'Twas in the year of '82 in the merry month of June

I landed in Ft. Smith on a sultry afternoon.

The air so hot and dusty, my breath I could not draw

But I got off to see what was in the State of Arkansas.



I dodged behind the depot, to duck the oven wind.

There I met a walking skeleton, his name was James T. Glynn.

His hair hung down in rat-tails o'er his long and lantern jaw.

Invited me to his hotel "the best in Arkansas."



I followed my conductor into his dwelling place.

There mis'ry and starvation could be seen in ev'ry face.

His bread it was corn dodger, his meat I could not chaw

But he charged me a half a dollar in the State of Arkansas.



I started off next morning, in a hard and driving rain.

He says to me "If you will work, I have some land to drain

I'll pay you fifty cents a day, your board and wash and all

You'll find yourself a different man when you leave old Arkansas.



He fed me on corn dodgers, as hard as any rock,

Till my teeth began to loosen and my knees began to knock.

I grew so thin on sassafras tea, I could hide behind a straw

And, indeed I was a different man when I left old Arkansas.



So farewell to swamp-angels, to canebreaks and fever chills

Farewell to sage and sassafras and corn-dodger pills.

If I ever see this land again, I'll give to you my paw

But it'll be though a telescope, from Hell to Arkansas.



Recorded by Lee Hayes

@pioneer

filename[ STATEARK

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