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