Lyrics:
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McKinley he hollered, McKinley he squalled
The doctor said "McKinley, I can't find that ball"
From Buffalo, in Buffalo.
Zolgotz, Zolgotz, mighty mean man
You shot poor McKinley with a handkerchief over his hand
In Buffalo, in Buffalo.
Ain't but the one thing that grieves my mind
That is to die and leave my poor wife behind
I'm gone a long old time.
Doctor came a-running, took off his specs
Said "Mr. McKinley, better cash in your checks
You're bound to die, bound to die"
Hush up little children, now don't you fret
You'll draw a pension at your papa's death
From Buffalo, in Buffalo.
Roosevelt in the White House, he's doin' his best
McKinley in the graveyard, he's takin' his rest
He's gone a long old time
Roosevelt in the White House, drinkin' out of a silver cup
McKinley in the graveyard, he never wakes up
He's gone a long, long time
Yonder comes the train, she's comin' down the line
Blowin' at every station message, "McKinley's a-dyin'"
It's hard times, hard times
Look a-here, you rascal, you see what you've done
You shot my husband with that Ivor Johnson gun
From Buffalo, in Buffalo.
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