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They said that Louise was not half-bad |
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It was written on the walls and window shades |
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And though she'd act the little girl |
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A deceiver, don't believe her, that's her trade |
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Sometimes a bottle of perfume, flowers and maybe some lace |
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Men brought Louise 10-cent trinkets |
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Their intentions were easily traced |
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And everybody knew at times she cried |
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Ah but women like Louise they get by |
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And everybody thought it kind of sad |
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When they found Louise in her room |
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They'd always put her down below their kind |
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Still some cried when she died this afternoon |
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Louise rode home on the mail train |
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Somewhere to the South I heard them say |
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Too bad it ended so ugly |
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Too bad she had to go this way |
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And the wind is blowin' cold tonight |
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So goodnight, Louise, goodnight. |
