It was on one Saturday evening,
About the hour of ten,
In a little mining town,
Where trouble it began.
Everybody there was drinking,
There was liquor everywhere,
Dewey Lee he got to thinking
He had no business there.
He was so tall and handsome,
His heart was true and brave.
Joe Jenkins pulled a pistol,
He sent him to his grave.
He took the life of Dewey,
His life had just began,
Poor Dewey went to heaven,
Poor Joe went to the pen.
He took the life of Dewey,
Because he would not tell,
We know he murdered Dewey,
For Dewey’s pistol fell.
His mother she is weeping,
She weeps and mourns all day,
She prays to meet her boy
In a better world some day.
The judge says, "Stand up, boy,
And listen to your crime.
Gonna send you up to Richmond
To serve out your time.
There’s many beneath the sod,
But money won’t hire you a lawyer,
When you stand before your God."
Now come all you young men,
Learn this, we must not kill,
Don’t take the life of anyone,
For life you cannot give,
There’s many they’ve got riches,
And many beneath the sod,
But money won’t hire you a lawyer,
When you stand before your God.
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