Mean Ole Frisco

Well that mean old, mean old Frisco

And that low down Santa Fe

Well that mean old Frisco

And that low down Santa Fe

Well it carried my babe away

And it blowed back out on me

I was standing, looking and listening

For that Southern whistle to blow

I was standing, listening

For that Southern whistle to blow

Well she did not catch the Southern

For now where did the poor gal go?

Well my mama, she done told me

And my papa told me too

Well my mama, she done told me

And my papa told me too

Everybody grins in your face, son

Well they ain't no friend of you

Lord I wonder, Lord I wonder

Do she ever think of me?

Lord I wonder, will she ever think of me?

Lord I wonder sometimes

Will the poor gal come back to me?

Yeah

Well I ain't got no, I ain't got no special ride here

Well I ain't got no, got no special ride here

Well I think I will leave

'Cause I don't feel welcome here