Wake up Wake up darling Cory, What makes you sleep so sound? Well the highway robbers are coming, and they're raiding through your town. Last night I laid on my pillow, You know that I laid on my bed, With the cold prison bars around me, And the concrete all under my head. Its thirty miles to??? Its sixty to??? And I respect the used life of a many poor married man. Its fifteen cents is all the money I got, One dollar is all I crave, All I need is a forty four gun, To put you in your lonesome grave. When Im dead and buried, My friends will be standing around, Pour a quart of whiskey on my breast, And watch that poor rounder go down.