Delia

Delia, Delia, how can it be? You love that old rounder, but you don't love me Well, that's one more rounder gone Delia, Delia sitting all around Some of your old rounders gonna pay my way back home Sitting on the housetop, high as I can see You love that old rounder, but you don't love me Delia's poor mother took a trip out West When she returned, Delia lyin' in rest Delia's mother wept, Delia's father moaned They'd have wanted their poor child to die at home Rubber tired buggy, two-seated hack, took Delia to the graveyard, never brought her back Kenny lookin' high, Kenny lookin' low, Shot poor Delia with that hated .44 Delia, Delia, wouldn't take no one's advice Last words I heard her say were, "Jesus Christ!" Judge said to Kenny, "Here's a natural fact: you going to wait in jail till Delia come back" Kenny's in the basement, drinking from a silver cup Delia's in the graveyard, never come back up Kenny said to judge, "What's the fuss about? Just that no good woman trying to put me out"

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