# | Title | Principal Artiste | Composers | Lyricist / Date written | Place | Date recorded | Matrix | Label&cat.no. | Additional Information |
---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
477 | Eleven More Months And Ten More Days | Tuff Guys | Arthur Fields / Frederick Hall | w/m `31 | London | December 8, 1931 | 90297-1 | EBR 1586 | Probably a Harry Hudson group with Harry also in chorus. |
Tuff Guys
I’m in the lock-up 20 days, just 20 days ago
I met the judge, the kind old judge, who was feeling fine and so
He gave me just a year in jail
A sociable sort of gink
All on account of a gallon of beer that I thought I could drink
In eleven more months and ten more days
I’ll be out of the calaboose
In eleven more months and ten more days
They’re going to turn me loose
A bird in another cell
Asked me "How long are you in here for?"
I told him, That i'd be here
Eleven months and ten days more
I'm here until tommor'said he
I said, you son of a gun
You're a luck guy. He said, am I?
Tomorrow, I'm gonna be hung
In eleven more months and ten more days
I’ll be out of the calaboose
In eleven more months and ten more days
They’re going to turn me loose
I'm in the prison once again
Just like I was before
I've got the same old stretch to do
Eleven months and ten more days more
I've got another year in jail
And here's the reason why
I didn't like the wife's new hat
So I poked her in the eye
In eleven more months and ten more days
I’ll be out of the calaboose
In eleven more months and ten more days
They’re going to turn me loose
Another guy with a ten year stretch got three years off his beef
For being a model prisoner, so I shook him by the mit
They're giving a celebration, for that lucky son of a gun
Because his pop's so proud to have such a son
In eleven more months and ten more days
I’ll be out of the calaboose
In eleven more months and ten more days
They’re going to turn me loose
A visitor passing by my cell, just the other day
I called him from my window and I said now stranger say
Can you tell me what time it is
He looked me in the face, Now what do you care what time it is
You ain't going anyplace
In eleven more months and ten more days
I’ll be out of the calaboose
In eleven more months and ten more days
They’re going to turn me loose