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..."