Ida Red Likes The Boogie - Bob Wills

Light in the parlor, fire in the grate

Clock on the mantle says it gettin' too late

Curtains in the window, snowy white

on Sunday night

Ida Red, Ida Red, I’m plum fool about Ida Red

Ida Red, Ida Red, I’m plum fool about Ida Red

Lamp on the table, picture on the wall

There’s a pretty sofa and that ain’t all

If I’m not mistaken I sure am right

Somebody else in the parlor tonight

Ida Red, Ida Red, I’m plum fool about Ida Red

Ida Red, Ida Red, I’m plum fool about Ida Red

Chicken in a bread pan pickin' out dough

Granny, does your dog bite?

No, child no

Hurry up boys now, don’t you be slow

Y’all in a girdle like you was awhile ago

Ida Red, Ida Red, I’m plum fool about Ida Red

Ida Red, Ida Red, I’m plum fool about Ida Red

My old mistress promised me

That when she died she’d set me free

But she lived so long that her head got bald

Took the the notion not to die at all

Ida Red, Ida Red, I’m plum fool about Ida Red

Ida Red, Ida Red, I’m plum fool about Ida Red

Lights grow dim, fire’s gettin' low

Somebody said it’s time to go

I hear a whisper, gentle and light

Don’t forget to come back Saturday night

Ida Red, Ida Red, I’m plum fool about Ida Red

Ida Red, Ida Red, I’m plum fool about Ida Red