Louise.
Paul Siebel
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They said that Louise was not all 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 perfume,
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Flowers and maybe some lace,
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Men brought Louise ten-cent trinkets,
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Their intentions were easily traced.
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And every body knew at times she cried,
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Ah but women like Louise well they get by.
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And every- body 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 that afternoon.
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Louise rode home on the mail train,
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Some where 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 blowing cold tonight,
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So good night Louise, goodnight.
