Rye Whiskey, Rye Whiskey I cry
If I don�t get Rye Whiskey
I surely will die
Old Tex Ritter was my great grandmother's young cousin, and she had watched over him when he was a child. When he came into Houston, he would always call my Dad who, for some reason, was his favorite relative on our side of the family. (Generations on that side of my family averaged around fifteen to sixteen years, so there was not a great deal of age difference.)
I saw him perform this song the first time when I was about five years old. The last time I saw him do it, I was married and probably had at least one daughter. He had perfected his performance. I never see a bottle of rye that I don't think of Tex.