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DELIA(TRADITIONAL)

(learned from Dave Ricker in 1956)

(music to go here)

Tony shot his Delia, 'twas on a Christmas night.
The first time that he shot her, he hung his head and cried,
    Delia's gone, one more round, Delia's gone, one more round,
    Delia's gone, one more round, Delia's gone.

Send for the doctor, the doctor come too late,
Send for the minister, send Delia to her fate,
    Delia's gone, (etc.)

Now Delia cursed Tony, 'twas on a Saturday night,
She cursed him such a wicked curse that he swore to take her life,
    Delia's gone, (etc.)

The reason he shot Delia was because of that wicked curse,
If Tony hadn't shot Delia, she might have cursed him worse.
    Delia's gone, (etc.)

First time Tony shot Delia, he shot her in the side,
The second time he shot her, she bowed her head and died.
    Delia's gone, (etc.)

They took her to the graveyard, and there they laid her down.
They took her to the graveyard, laid my Delia on the ground.
    Delia's gone, (etc.)

Rubber-tired carriage, double-seated hack,
Took Delia to the graveyard, and never brought her back.
    Delia's gone, (etc.)

I went down to the graveyard to look at Delia's face.
Delia, girl I love you, but I couldn't take your place,
    Delia's gone, (etc.)

Delia, oh, my Delia, where've you been so long?
Everybody's talking 'bout Delia, poor Delia's dead and gone.
    Delia's gone, (etc.)

Now Delia's friend's in prison, drinkin' from a silver cup,
Poor Delia's lyin' in her grave, tryin' her best to get up,
    Delia's gone, (etc.)

Jailer, jailer, Tony said, Oh, how can I sleep
When all around by bedside I hear my Delia's feet?
    Delia's gone, (etc.)

**** (other verses)
The man that shot my Delia was ridin' on a wheel,
He rode that wheel so fast they tho't 'twas an automobile.
    Delia's gone, (etc.)

Some give Delia a nickel, some give her a dime,
But I didn't give her one red cent 'cause she's no gal of mine,
    Delia's gone, (etc.)

Sixty-four years in prison, Tony said, That ain't no time,
My brother's in the big house doin' nine hundred ninety nine.
    Delia's gone, (etc.)

(from miriam berg's folksong collection)