Hey, Mister McKinley Why didn't you run When you see that man a-coming With a Johnson forty-one (alternatively: With that Ivor Johnson gun*) From Buffalo... To Washington Doctor comes a-runnin' Takes off his specs Says, "Mister McKinley You done cashed your checks" From Buffalo... To Washington McKinley hollered, McKinley squalled, The Doc said, McKinley, I can't find that ball You're bound to die-bound to die Oh it's look here you rascal see what you done You shot my husban and I got your gun I'm takin' you back to Washington Oh the doc came a-running took off his specs Said Mr. McKinley better cash in your checks You're bound to die, bound to die. Oh Roosevelt in the White House doin' his best McKinley in the graveyard takin' a rest He's gone, long gone The engine she whistled all down the line Blowin' at every station "McKinley is dyin'" From Buffalo to Washington Roosevelt in the White House, drinkin' out a silver cup, McKinley in the graveyard, he'll never wake up He's gone a long, old time.
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