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