Murder Ballads - Matty Groves Blues

A holiday, a holiday, you know the first one of the year
Judge Arlen's wife, she went to the church, the Gospel for to hear

And when the meeting it was done, she took a look around
And oh my soul, that Matty Groves, he came a walking through the crowd

Come home with me, pretty Matty. Come on home with me tonight
Because the sheets are red on my featherbed, and you know I'll treat you right

Oh, I can't go home along with you, though you're a lovely sight
For your diamond ring tells me one thing; that a rich man calls you wife

It's true, I am Judge Arlen's wife, but Arlen, he ain't home
He's gone down to the river town, and won't mind him where I roam

Little Matty Groves, he lay him down and he took a little sleep
But when he woke, the man of the house was standing at his feet

Saying how do you like my bed boy, and how d'you like them sheets
And how do you find that wife of mine who lies right there asleep

Now it's a fine old featherbed, and these sure are fancy sheets
But oh my eyes, she takes the prize though sure she'll cost me steep

Get up, get dressed, Judge Arlen cried, get on your feet and stand
For when you're dead it won't be said that I killed a naked man

No, I can't get up, I won't get up, I can't get up for my life
For by my word you got two swords, and I've got just this pocket knife

"Well these swords are long and oh so sharp and they cost me deep in the purse
So you take the one you fancy, son, and you leave me with the worse

And you'll strike out the first blow, and you strike it like a man
'Cause the second blow is mine to throw, and I'll kill you where you stand

Then Matty struck like lightning, cut Arlen straight to the ground
But the Judge's sword had the final word, and little Matty, he stayed down

Then old Judge Arlen took his wife and he sat her on his knee
Saying raise your eyes and choose your prize; that dead man there, or me

Well, she gave back a cold, clear smile, and she spoke her mind out free
I'll take a kiss from dead Matty's lips before you lay your hand to me

And then Judge Arlen, up he jumped and loudly he did bawl
And with Matty's knife, he took his wife and he... pinned her to the wall

Old Arlen, he washed up his hands and he rode on back to town
While the servants dug in the river's mud and they laid those lovers down

Now we could end this story here, and some would call it right
But rivers flood, and that thick black mud, well it don't hold secrets tight

And the law don't favor lovers; it don't care for jealousy
And the killin' stain don't heed no fame when a guilty man walks free

House and lands can't hush it when your secrets find the light
And your wealthy kin disown your sin, that rope so taut just can't be bought
So Arlen paid for his hasty blade more dear than ever he thought

Written by:
Catt Kingsgrave

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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