Well the Cryderville Jail, ain't no jail at all
The rats in that jail are eatin' the wall
And there's hard times in the Cryderville Jail,
Hard times, poor boy

Well the beds in that jail are made of old rugs
When you lie down you're covered in bugs
And there's hard times in the Cryderville Jail,
Hard times, poor boy

There's a big bull ring in the middle of the floor
Big fat jailer who opens the door
And your pockets he'll pick, and your clothes he will sell,
Get drunk on the money, oh damn him to hell.
And there's hard times in the Cryderville Jail,
Hard times, poor boy

Well I sing to the lawyer who comes to your cell
Swears he will clear you in spite of all Hell
Gets your money before he can rest
Then says, Plead guilty, I think it the best
And there's hard times in the Cryderville Jail,
Hard times, poor boy

Well old Judge Simpkins reads the law
The silliest judge that I ever saw
And there's hard times in the Cryderville Jail,
Hard times, poor boy

And there sits the jury, they're a devil of a crew
They'll look the poor prisoner clean through and through
And here's to the sheriff, I'd like to forgot
The darndest old rascal we've got in the lot
And there's hard times in the Cryderville Jail,
Hard times, poor boy

And now I have come to the end of my song,
I'll leave it to the fellows as I drift along.
Yes it's hard times in the Cryderville jail,
It's hard times poor boy.

