Johnson's Boarders

One Monday night I got my chance.
I run my hand up in her pants.
"You're welcome to do that," says Blanche,
"For you're one of Johnson's boarders."

I laid her down upon the floor
And fucked her fifteen times or more,
And Blanche would sure have been a whore
If she's stayed with Johnson's boarders.

When Martin seen what I had done
He grabbed the old man, just for fun,
And cornholed that old son-of-a-gun,
He was one of Johnson's boarders.

And then along come Harry Hunt.
He grabbed poor Blanche right by the cunt
And fucked her both in back and front,
Like one of Johnson's boarders.

	Contributed by Charles E. Roe in a June, 1929, letter to Robert W. Gordon, this is number 3756 in the Gordon Inferno collection at the Archive of American Folk Song, Library of Congress.  
	The index to the Gordon collection, p. 7, notes the ballad was sung by one "'Greeley,' a lumberjack, in 1895.  Said he learned in Maine, about ten years before."  But for a fragment, it is the only text recovered of this song.