Mr. McKinley he didn't do no wrong Rode on in to Buffalo but he didn't stay too long Hard times, hard times, hard times The people all can running round to see what had been done You have shot the president down with your Ivor Johnson gun Hard times, hard times, hard times The train oh the train, running on down the line Blowin at every station, McKinley is a dyin Hard times, hard times, hard times The train oh the train, running on down the track Taking him to the graveyard but it will not bring him back Hard times, hard times, hard times Now Roosevelt's in the White House drinking out of a silver cup And Mckinley's in the graveyard and he never will get up Hard times, hard times, hard times Rooselvelt's in the White House, he's doin his best And McKinley's in the grave yard takin his rest Hard times, hard times, hard times
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