HOME | BIOGRAPHY | LYRICS | PROGRAM & EXHIBITS | PUBLISHING REQUEST | PRESS | STORE

A NOTE ABOUT PUBLISHING:

All works by Woody Guthrie are held under U.S. Copyright Law. If you are interested in using a song for publication, recording, performance, or other, please contact the appropriate publisher listed at the bottom of each lyric.

If you have questions, please feel free to contact Anna Canoni at: acanoni(at)woodyguthrie.org


PUBLISHER'S CONTACTS:

TRO-Essex Music Group
Attn: Christina Sayles
266 West 37th Street, 17th Floor
New York, NY 10018-6609
T: 212-594-9795 x24
Website


Woody Guthrie Publications, Inc.
(Administered by BMG Chrysalis)
Attn: Gregg Barron
6100 Wilshire Boulevard, Suite #1600,
Los Angeles, CA 90048
T: (323) 969-0988
E: info.us@bmgchrysalis.com
Website


Sanga Music Group
(Administered by Bicycle Music)
449 South Beverly Drive, Suite 300
Beverly Hills, CA 90212 
T: 310-286-6600
Website


Michael Goldsen Music, Inc.
6124 Selma Avenue
Hollywood, CA 90068


MCA Music Publishing
c/o Universal Music, Inc
2440 Sepulveda Boulevard, #100
Los Angeles, CA 90064


 

 

Don’t Kill My Baby and My Son
Words and Music by Woody Guthrie

As I walked down that old dark town
In the town where I was born,
I heard the saddest lonesome moan
I ever heard before.

My hair it trembled at the roots
Cold chills run down my spine,
As I drew near that jail house
I heard this deathly cry:

O, don't kill my baby and my son,
O , don't kill my baby and my son.
You can stretch my neck on that old river bridge,
But don't kill my baby and my son.

Now, I've heard the cries of a panther,
Now, I've heard the coyotes yell,
But that long, lonesome cry shook the whole wide world
And it come from the cell of the jail.

Yes, I’ve heard the screech owls screeching,
And the hoot owls that hoot in the night,
But the graveyard itself is happy compared
To the voice in that jailhouse that night.

Then I saw a picture on a postcard
It showed the Canadian River Bridge,
Three bodies hanging to swing in the wind,
A mother and two sons they'd lynched.

There's a wild wind blows down the river,
There's a wild wind blows through the trees,
There's a wild wind that blows 'round this wide wide world,
And here's what the wild winds say:

O, don't kill my baby and my son,
O, don't kill my baby and my son.
You can stretch my neck on that old river bridge,
But don't kill my baby and my son.

 


© 1966 (renewed) by Woody Guthrie Publications, Inc.
Available on:

Songs by Woody Guthrie
Joel Rafael

 

HOME | BIOGRAPHY | LYRICS | SPECIAL PROJECTS | PUBLISHING REQUEST | EDUCATIONAL CURRICULUM

PROGRAM & EXHIBITS | NEWS | STORE | MAILING LIST | PRESS | SITEMAPCONTACT