| I know this Jasper girl whose name is Salome
|
| Bear east on Sixty-Three south of Aquacay
|
| You’re still in Texas, but just a stone’s throw away
|
| 'Cross the river lies Louisian-i-ay
|
| Whoa-oh whorehouse moan
|
| Love that fat-back boiled in bone
|
| Salty gravy seasoned with tears
|
| Keep me happy for a hundred years
|
| She got corn on the cob, black-eyed peas and ham
|
| Served with salty gravy for the kind of man I am
|
| She got roast potato, pheasant under glass
|
| Moonshine in a Dixie cup, knock you back on your ass
|
| Salty, salty gravy
|
| Fat-back boiled in bone
|
| Salty, salty gravy
|
| Texas whorehouse moan
|
| If you got an appetite she can’t satisfy
|
| Ain’t her fault you couldn’t, not 'cause she didn’t try
|
| No dance of seven veils to feast your eyes upon
|
| Get down and lose yourself, come on baby come on
|
| Whoa-oh whorehouse moan
|
| Give me fat-back boiled in bone
|
| Salty gravy seasoned with tears
|
| Keep me happy for a hundred years
|
| Last whorehouse in Texas, damn near on the State line
|
| I can’t tell you how I wish Salome was mine
|
| I’d marry that lady today, move down to New Orleans
|
| Spite of what people say how she’s too good for the likes of me
|
| Whoa-oh whorehouse moan
|
| Give me fat-back boiled in bone
|
| Salty gravy seasoned with tears
|
| Keep me happy for a hundred years
|
| Each year on her birthday I send a big bouquet
|
| Of red, red, red roses and a jug of fine tokay
|
| Salty, salty gravy, maybe crepe suzette
|
| Forty second of July, a date I don’t forget
|
| Salty, salty gravy
|
| Fat-back boiled in bone
|
| Salty, salty gravy
|
| Texas whorehouse moan |