White House Blues SOURCE: Bob Pfeffer SOURCE'S SOURCE: (1) Bascom Lamar Lunsford, RECORD: "Songs and Ballads of American History and of the Assassination of Presidents" (Library of Congress) (2) Charlie Poole, RECORD: COMMENTS: BLL titled it "Zolgotz"; he heard Willard Randolph sing it in about 1923. c.f. also A. Lomax "FS of North America" TEXT: (1) D Zolgotz, cruel man D G D He shot poor McKinley with a handkerchief on his hand A7 G In Buffalo, in Buffalo Zolgotz, you done him wrong You shot poor McKinley when he was walkin' along In Buffalo, in Buffalo The pistol fired then McKinley he did fall The doctor says "McKinley, I can't find the ball" In Buffalo, in Buffalo They sent for the doctor, the doctor come He come in a-chargin', he come in a-runnin' In Buffalo, in Buffalo He saddled his horse and he swung on his rein And he trotted the horse till he outrun the train To Buffalo, to Buffalo Forty-four boxes all trimmed in braid A sixteen-wheeled driver, boys, it couldn't make the grade To Buffalo, to Buffalo Forty-four boxes trimmed in lace Take him back to the baggage, boys, where I can't see his face In Buffalo, in Buffalo Mrs. Mckinley took a trip, and she took it out west Where she couldn't hear the people talk about McKinley's death In Buffalo, in Buffalo The engine whistled down the line A-blowing every station - McKinley was a-dying In Buffalo, in Buffalo Seventeen coaches all trimmed in black Took McKinley to the graveyard but never brought him back To Buffalo, to Buffalo Seventeen coaches all trimmed in black Took Roosevelt to the White House but never brought him back To Buffalo, to Buffalo SPOKEN: That was Theodore Roosevelt (2) McKinley he hollered, McKinley he squalled The doctor said "McKinley, I can't find that ball" From Buffalo to Washington Roosevelt in the White House, he's doin' his best McKinley in the graveyard, he's takin' his rest He's gone a long old time Hush up little children, now don't you fret You'll draw a pension at your papa's death From Buffalo to Washington Roosevelt in the White House, drinkin' out of a silver cup McKinley in the graveyard, he never wakes up He's gone a long, long time Ain't but the one thing that grieves my mind That is to die and leave my poor wife behind I'm gone a long old time Standing at the station, just lookin' at the time See by it you're running by half-past nine From Buffalo to Washington Pay in the train, she's just on time She'll run a thousand miles from eight o'clock till nine From Buffalo to Washington Yonder comes the train, she's comin' down the line Throwin' them a station message, McKinley's a-dyin' It's hard times, hard times Look a-here, you rascal, you see what you've done You shot my husband with that Ivor Johnstone gun Carry him back to Washington The doc told the horse, he tore down the rein Said to that horse, "You've got to outrun this train From Buffalo to Washington" Doctor came a-running, taked off his specs Said "Mr. McKinley, better cash in your checks You're bound to die, bound to die" @murder @America @death filename[ WHITEHOU RPf ===DOCUMENT BOUNDARY===