The Shooting of Dan McGrew
A bunch of the boys were whooping it up 1
In the Malamute saloon;
Was hitting a jag-time tune;
Back of the bar, in a solo game,
Sat Dangerous Dan McGrew,
And watching his luck was his light-o'-love,
The lady that's known as Lou.
And into the din and the glare,
There stumbled a miner fresh from the creeks,
Dog-dirty, and loaded for bear.
He looked like a man with a foot in the grave
And scarcely the strength of a louse,
Yet he tilted a poke of dust on the bar,
And he called for drinks for the house.
There was none could place the stranger's face,
Though we searched ourselves for a clue;
But we drank his health, and the last to drink
Was Dangerous Dan McGrew.

And such was he, and he looked to me

With a face most hair, and the dreary stare

As he watered the green stuff in his glass,

Then I got to figgering who he was,

And I turned my head -- and there watching him


Till at last that old piano fell

The rag-time kid was having a drink;

So the stranger stumbles across the room,

In a buckskin shirt that was glazed with dirt

Then he clutched the keys with his talon hands --


And the icy mountains hemmed you in

With only the howl of a timber wolf,

A half-dead thing in a stark, dead world,

While high overhead, green, yellow and red,

Then you've a haunch what the music meant . . .


But the gnawing hunger of lonely men

For a fireside far from the cares that are,

But oh! so cramful of cosy joy,

A woman dearer than all the world,

(God! how ghastly she looks through her rouge, --


But you felt that your life had been looted clean

That someone had stolen the woman you loved;

That your guts were gone, and the best for you

'Twas the crowning cry of a heart's despair,

"I guess I'll make it a spread misere,"


And it seemed to say, "Repay, repay,"

The thought came back of an ancient wrong,

And the lust awoke to kill, to kill . . .

And the stranger turned, and his eyes they burned

In a buckskin shirt that was glazed with dirt

Then his lips went in in a kind of grin,

And "Boys," says he, "you don't know me,

But I want to state, and my words are straight,

That one of you is a hound of hell . . .


And a woman screamed, and the lights went up,

Pitched on his head, and pumped full of lead,

While the man from the creeks lay clutched to the breast


They say that the stranger was crazed with "hooch",

I'm not so wise as the lawyer guys,

The woman that kissed him and -- pinched his poke --

A quick lesson in poetry rhythm can be found here. Important to know that words have beats and how the beats are emphasized creates a rhythm.
1. This poem has an unstressed syllable followed by a stressed syllable, 14 syllables a line (posting the poem above I divided the lines into 2). How a poem chooses to stress and destress syllables is referred to as a foot. This style of unstressed and stressed is call iambic. The poem has 7 of these foots in a line, and the feet in a line is called a meter (only in poetry!). Hepta is greek for 7 so this poem is an iambic heptameter, sometimes called a fourteener (because of the 14 syllables a line). This is exactly the style that Aerosmith used for their hit song Walk this Way.
So, question one. Open the music below, wait for the intro to play, and sing 2 stanzas of the poem above to the music below.
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