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THE DRUNKARD'S HELL Sung by: Roberta and Bob Blair Recorded in Pleasant Grove, AR, 7/5/52 Click here to listen to the original recording I thought I saw an awful sight. The lightning flashed, the thunder rolled Upon a poor old drunkard's soul. I thought I saw a gulf below, A place where dying drunkards go. An awful thought, no tongue can tell: Was this my home in drunkard's hell? I thought I saw a wicked crowd, And I thought they cried aloud: "Come on, young man, we'll find you room. This is a whiskey-seller's home." I started out of there at last; I thought I'd take one social glass. But every time I did stir, well, I'd think of most a drunkard's hell. I splashed it out all over the place, And went to seek redeeming grace. I felt like Paul when once he prayed, Because his sins were washed away. I started home to change my life, To see my poor neglected wife. I found her weeping by her bed Because our own little babe was dead. I told her not to mourn or weep Because our babe was just asleep. Its little soul has gone away To dwell with God 'til endless day. I took her by her small white hand; She was so weak she could not stand. I bowed my head and prayed a prayer That God might help and guide us there. (One singer sings this; the other sings, "That God might guide and save us there.") Seven long years have passed away Since first I bowed my head to pray; But still I live a Christian life With a happy home and a Christian wife. Also found in Randolph, Vol. II, #313; Brown, Vol. III, #20. |
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All Songs Recorded by John Quincy Wolf, Jr., unless otherwise noted The John Quincy Wolf Folklore Collection Lyon College, Batesville, Arkansas Back to the Song Index Back to the Wolf Collection Homepage ©Copyright 2002 Lyon College |