White House Blues

Traditional


Mr. McKinley he didn't do no wrong.
He rode on down to Buffalo, but he didn't stay too long.
Hard times, hard times, hard times.

The people all came running round to see what had been done.
You have shot the President down with your Iver Johnson gun.
Hard times, hard times, hard times.

The train oh that train, running on down the line.
Blowin at every station, "McKinley is a-dyin'."
Hard times, hard times, hard times.

The train oh the train, running on down the track.
Taking him to the graveyard, but it will not bring him back.
Hard times, hard times, hard times.

Now Roosevelt's in the White House drinking out of a silver cup.
Mckinley's in the graveyard, and he will never get up.
Hard times, hard times, hard times.

Rooselvelt's in the White House, he's doin his best.
McKinley's in the grave yard, he's takin his rest.
Hard times, hard times, hard times.

Repeate First Verse


Note:  There are many variations of this song.  These lyrics are taken,
more or less, from the version recorded by John Renbourn.