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1. DELIA’S GONE
Ten years ago, I decided to add this song, which I had heard in multiple diverse versions, to my repertoire, and I set out to create a version of my own. I did some research on the internet, looking for different sets of lyrics to use as raw material, and I came across the results of the research that had been done by John Garst, some years earlier. He had gone back to the newspapers and court records of the day, to piece together the true story of the murder of Delia Green, in Savannah Georgia, very early on a Christmas morning, at the dawn of the 20th century. It seems that over time, the telling of that story in song had become so twisted and distorted that Delia, the victim in reality, had somehow become the villain of the piece. At the suggestion of my wife, Rosemary, I abandoned the version of the song I was working on, and completely re-wrote about half of it, to tell, instead, this tragic true story.

lyrics

1. DELIA’S GONE
Traditional – additional lyrics by Marc Nerenberg
Rubber tired buggy, double seated hack
Took my sweet child to the bone yard, never brought her back.
And now all I ever had is gone.

Delia, Delia, how’d things go so wrong?
Everybody’s talking ‘bout my Delia’s dead and gone.

CHORUS: Delia’s gone, one more round (repeats)

She was a scrub-girl in the whorehouse; my Delia was no whore.
Bullet in the night left her lying on the floor.

It was the whorehouse Christmas party; my Delia was just a child.
But that boy-child who was courting her kept saying, “She’s so wild.”

He called her his easy rider, and said she rode like a buckaroo.
She said, “You lying son of a bitch! I’m a lady, that’s not true!”

Well then, he looked at her and he snarled, “How dare you call me that name!”
And he reached down for his gun, and then he took dead aim.

CHORUS

Delia, Delia, oh Lord why didn’t you run?
Didn’t you know that boy child, he was carrying that gun?

Been thinking ‘bout my Delia; it’s like drinking from a broken cup.
She’s down there in the bone yard, and she ain’t never gonna get up.

CHORUS

Y’know, they were both just fourteen, when my Delia died that night.
And now I’ve buried my own sweet daughter, and my life just don’t seem right.

credits

from DELIA'S GONE: Murder Ballads & Other Songs of Love & Death, released July 15, 2019
Traditional, arranged and adapted, with additional lyrics, by Marc Nerenberg

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Marc Nerenberg Montreal, Québec

Marc Nerenberg is a veteran Montreal folksinger who plays old time banjo styles and blues harmonica. He has a narrative- centric repertoire, recounting stories in song and wrapping stories around songs. You may “be drawn in by a combination of Marc’s mastery of traditional banjo styles, his idiosyncratic singing, and [his] richly detailed ballads.” (Mike Regenstreif – Folk Roots/Folk Branches 2019) ... more

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