They all said Louise was not half bad It was written on the walls and window shades At how she'd act the little girl The deceiver, don't believe her That's her trade
Sometimes a bottle of perfume Flowers and maybe some lace Men brought Louise ten-cent trinkets Their intentions were easily traced
Oh, and everybody thought it kind of sad When they found Louise in her room They'd all put her down below their kind Still some cried when she died This afternoon
Louise rode home on a mail train Somewhere to the South, I heard them say Too bad it ended so ugly Too bad she had to go that way
Oh, but the wind is blowing cold tonight Goodnight, Louise, goodnight