One more night, the stars are in sight
But tonight I’m as lonesome as can be.
Oh, the moon is shinin’ bright,
Lighting ev’rything in sight,
But tonight no light will shine on me.

Oh, it’s shameful and it’s sad,
I lost the only pal I had,
I just could not be what she wanted me to be.
I will turn my head up high
To that dark and rolling sky,
For tonight no light will shine on me.

I was so mistaken when I thought that she’d be true,
I had no idea what a woman in love would do!

One more night, I will wait for the light
While the wind blows high above the tree.
Oh, I miss my darling so,
I didn’t mean to see her go,
But tonight no light will shine on me.

One more night, the moon is shinin’ bright
And the wind blows high above the tree.
Oh, I miss that woman so,
I didn’t mean to see her go,
But tonight no light will shine on me
But tonight no light will shine on me

I have heard rumors all over town,
They say that you’re planning to put me down.
All I would like you to do,
Is tell me that it isn’t true.

They say that you’ve been seen with some other man,
That he’s tall, dark and handsome, and you’re holding his hand.
Darlin’, I’m a-countin’ on you,
Tell me that it isn’t true.

To know that some other man is holdin’ you tight,
It hurts me all over, it doesn’t seem right.

All of those awful things that I have heard,
I don’t want to believe them, all I want is your word.
So darlin’, you better come through,
Tell me that it isn’t true.

All of those awful things that I have heard,
I don’t want to believe them, all I want is your word.
So darlin’, I’m countin’ on you,
Tell me that it isn’t true.

Just like old Saxophone Joe
When he’s got the hogshead up on his toe
Oh me, oh my
Love that country pie

Listen to the fiddler play
When he’s playin’ ’til the break of day
Oh me, oh my
Love that country pie

Raspberry, strawberry, lemon and lime
What do I care?
Blueberry, apple, cherry, pumpkin and plum
Call me for dinner, honey, I’ll be there

Saddle me up my big white goose
Tie me on ‘er and turn her loose
Oh me, oh my
Love that country pie

I don’t need much and that ain’t no lie
Ain’t runnin’ any race
Give to me my country pie
I won’t throw it up in anybody’s face

Shake me up that old peach tree
Little Jack Horner’s got nothin’ on me
Oh me, oh my
Love that country pie

Throw my ticket out the window,
Throw my suitcase out there, too,
Throw my troubles out the door,
I don’t need them any more
‘Cause tonight I’ll be staying here with you.

I should have left this town this morning
But it was more than I could do.
Oh, your love comes on so strong
And I’ve waited all day long
For tonight when I’ll be staying here with you.

Is it really any wonder
The love that a stranger might receive.
You cast your spell and I went under,
I find it so difficult to leave.

I can hear that whistle blowin’,
I see that stationmaster, too,
If there’s a poor boy on the street,
Then let him have my seat
‘Cause tonight I’ll be staying here with you.

Throw my ticket out the window,
Throw my suitcase out there, too,
Throw my troubles out the door,
I don’t need them any more
‘Cause tonight I’ll be staying here with you
‘Cause tonight I’ll be staying here with you

John Wesley Harding
Was a friend to the poor,
He trav’led with a gun in ev’ry hand.
All along this countryside,
He opened a many a door,
But he was never known
To hurt an honest man.

‘Twas down in Chaynee County,
A time they talk about,
With his lady by his side
He took a stand.
And soon the situation there
Was all but straightened out,
For he was always known
To lend a helping hand.

All across the telegraph
His name it did resound,
But no charge held against him
Could they prove.
And there was no man around
Who could track or chain him down,
He was never known
To make a foolish move.

As I went out one morning
To breathe the air around Tom Paine’s,
I spied the fairest damsel
That ever did walk in chains.
I offer’d her my hand,
She took me by the arm.
I knew that very instant,
She meant to do me harm.

“Depart from me this moment,”
I told her with my voice.
Said she, “But I don’t wish to,”
Said I, “But you have no choice.”
“I beg you, sir,” she pleaded
From the corners of her mouth,
“I will secretly accept you
And together we’ll fly south.”

Just then Tom Paine, himself,
Came running from across the field,
Shouting at this lovely girl
And commanding her to yield.
And as she was letting go her grip,
Up Tom Paine did run,
“I’m sorry, sir,” he said to me,
“I’m sorry for what she’s done.”

I dreamed I saw St. Augustine,
Alive as you or me,
Tearing through these quarters
In the utmost misery,
With a blanket underneath his arm
And a coat of solid gold,
Searching for the very souls
Whom already have been sold.

“Arise, arise,” he cried so loud,
In a voice without restraint,
“Come out, ye gifted kings and queens
And hear my sad complaint.
No martyr is among ye now
Whom you can call your own,
So go on your way accordingly
But know you’re not alone.”

I dreamed I saw St. Augustine,
Alive with fiery breath,
And I dreamed I was amongst the ones
That put him out to death.
Oh, I awoke in anger,
So alone and terrified,
I put my fingers against the glass
And bowed my head and cried.

“There must be some way out of here,” said the joker to the thief,
“There’s too much confusion, I can’t get no relief.
Businessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth,
None of them along the line know what any of it is worth.”

“No reason to get excited,” the thief, he kindly spoke,
“There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke.
But you and I, we’ve been through that, and this is not our fate,
So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late.”

All along the watchtower, princes kept the view
While all the women came and went, barefoot servants, too.

Outside in the distance a wildcat did growl,
Two riders were approaching, the wind began to howl.
Two riders were approaching, the wind began to howl.

Well, Frankie Lee and Judas Priest,
They were the best of friends.
So when Frankie Lee needed money one day,
Judas quickly pulled out a roll of tens
And placed them on a footstool
Just above the plotted plain,
Sayin’, “Take your pick, Frankie Boy,
My loss will be your gain.”

Well, Frankie Lee, he sat right down
And put his fingers to his chin,
But with the cold eyes of Judas on him,
His head began to spin.
“Would ya please not stare at me like that,” he said,
“It’s just my foolish pride,
But sometimes a man must be alone
And this is no place to hide.”

Well, Judas, he just winked and said,
“All right, I’ll leave you here,
But you’d better hurry up and choose
Which of those bills you want,
Before they all disappear.”
“I’m gonna start my pickin’ right now,
Just tell me where you’ll be.”

Judas pointed down the road
And said, “Eternity!”
“Eternity?” said Frankie Lee,
With a voice as cold as ice.
“That’s right,” said Judas Priest, “Eternity,
Though you might call it ‘Paradise.’”

“I don’t call it anything,”
Said Frankie Lee with a smile.
“All right,” said Judas Priest,
“I’ll see you after a while.”

Well, Frankie Lee, he sat back down,
Feelin’ low and mean,
When just then a passing stranger
Burst upon the scene,
Saying, “Are you Frankie Lee, the gambler,
Whose father is deceased?
Well, if you are,
There’s a fellow callin’ you down the road
And they say his name is Priest.”

“Oh, yes, he is my friend,”
Said Frankie Lee in fright,
“I do recall him very well,
In fact, he just left my sight.”
“Yes, that’s the one,” said the stranger,
As quiet as a mouse,
“Well, my message is, he’s down the road,
Stranded in a house.”

Well, Frankie Lee, he panicked,
He dropped ev’rything and ran
Until he came up to the spot
Where Judas Priest did stand.
“What kind of house is this,” he said,
“Where I have come to roam?”
“It’s not a house,” said Judas Priest,
“It’s not a house . . . it’s a home.”

Well, Frankie Lee, he trembled,
He soon lost all control
Over ev’rything which he had made
While the mission bells did toll.
He just stood there staring
At that big house as bright as any sun,
With four and twenty windows
And a woman’s face in ev’ry one.

Well, up the stairs ran Frankie Lee
With a soulful, bounding leap,
And, foaming at the mouth,
He began to make his midnight creep.
For sixteen nights and days he raved,
But on the seventeenth he burst
Into the arms of Judas Priest,
Which is where he died of thirst.

No one tried to say a thing
When they took him out in jest,
Except, of course, the little neighbor boy
Who carried him to rest.
And he just walked along, alone,
With his guilt so well concealed,
And muttered underneath his breath,
“Nothing is revealed.”

Well, the moral of the story,
The moral of this song,
Is simply that one should never be
Where one does not belong.
So when you see your neighbor carryin’ somethin’,
Help him with his load,
And don’t go mistaking Paradise
For that home across the road.

“Oh, help me in my weakness,”
I heard the drifter say,
As they carried him from the courtroom
And were taking him away.
“My trip hasn’t been a pleasant one
And my time it isn’t long,
And I still do not know
What it was that I’ve done wrong.”

Well, the judge, he cast his robe aside,
A tear came to his eye,
“You fail to understand,” he said,
“Why must you even try?”
Outside, the crowd was stirring,
You could hear it from the door.
Inside, the judge was stepping down,
While the jury cried for more.

“Oh, stop that cursed jury,”
Cried the attendant and the nurse,
“The trial was bad enough,
But this is ten times worse.”
Just then a bolt of lightning
Struck the courthouse out of shape,
And while ev’rybody knelt to pray
The drifter did escape.