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Delia, Delia, how can it be?You love that old rounder, but you don't love meWell, that's one more rounder goneDelia, Delia sitting all aroundSome of your old rounders gonna pay my way back homeSitting on the housetop, high as I can seeYou love that old rounder, but you don't love meDelia's poor mother took a trip out WestWhen she returned, Delia lyin' in restDelia's mother wept, Delia's father moanedThey'd have wanted their poor child to die at homeRubber tired buggy, two-seated hack,took Delia to the graveyard, never brought her backKenny lookin' high, Kenny lookin' low,Shot poor Delia with that hated .44Delia, Delia, wouldn't take no one's adviceLast 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 cupDelia's in the graveyard, never come back upKenny said to judge, "What's the fuss about?Just that no good woman trying to put me out" From Letras Mania