Jesse James ^{1, fragment}

Traditional

The Home of Bob and Sid Gleason, East Orange NJ - February or March 1961, one verse  

This song was written by Billy, Billy Gashade.
This song was made by Billy Gashade as soon as the news did arrive
He said there was no man with the gun in his hand
That could take Jesse James when alive.
    

Jesse James ^{2, fragment}

Montréal Stables, Montréal, Québec, Canada - 5.dec.1975 

It was on a sunday night, the moon was shining bright
... mmm ...
And the people they did say for many miles away
... mmm ... Frank and Jesse James

Poor Jesse had a wife to mourn for his life
Three children they were brave
But the dirty little coward who shot Mr Howard
He laid poor Jesse in his grave

It was with his brother Frank that he robbed the Lincoln bank
... mmm ... blame they'll stay
And the people they did say for many miles away
Twas the outlaws Frank and Jesse James

Poor Jesse had a wife to mourn for her life
Three children they were brave
But the dirty little coward who shot Mr Howard
He laid poor Jesse in his grave.



Jesse James was a lad who killed many a man
He robbed the Glendale train
He stole from the rich and he gave to the poor
He'd a hand and a heart and a brain.

Poor Jesse had a wife to mourn for her life
Three children they were brave
But the dirty little coward who shot Mr. Howard
Had laid poor Jesse in his grave.

It was Robert Ford, that dirty little coward
I wonder how he does feel
For he ate of Jesse's bread and he slept in Jesse's bed
And he laid poor Jesse in his grave.

How the people held their breath when they heard of Jesse's death
And wondered how he ever came to die
It was one of the gang, called Little Robert Ford
That shot poor Jesse on the sly.

Jesse was a man, a friend to the poor
He would never see a man suffer pain
And with his brother Frank he robbed the Chicago bank
And stopped the Glendale train.

It was on a wednesday night, the moon was shining bright
They stopped the Glendale train
And the people they did say for many miles away
It was robbed by Frank and Jesse James.

They went to a crossing not very far from there
And there they did the same
With the agent on his knees he delivered up the keys
To the outlaws, Frank and Jesse James.

It was on a saturday night, Jesse was at home
Talking to his family brave
Robert Ford came along like a thief in the night
And laid poor Jesse in his grave.