They all said Louise was not half bad
It was written on the walls and window shades
As 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 ten cent trinkets
Their intentions were easily traced
Everybody knew at times she cried
But women like Louise they get by

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 that afternoon

Louise rode home on the mail train
Somewhere south I heard them say
Too bad it ended so ugly
Too bad she had to go that way
The wind is blowing cold tonight
Good night Louise, good night
Good night Louise, good night