She Was No Good She could be no good, I'm telling you Gather round boys for a tale that is tragic and true On the Mississippi riverboat, 'Magnolia' No one onboard was smelling too sweet That precious one must have been stamping her feet Dictating demands all well and fine A few rods west of the Bridgeport line But the veil was drawn and the halo slipped Tippling tinctures and reciting scripture Faces where slapped just as kid gloves were suffered Vile threats were uttered and challenges offered On the Cumberland riverboat, 'E.W. Stephens' Daggers were drawn on pistols pulled Staggering “til dawn filled up with whiskey and rum
And several drunken players ran amok Rampaging with the crew around the deck And I received a blow that was unkind It turned my cheek to the colour of gentian violet I wouldn't say that this journey had quite been the highlight Of the All-American Tour Teetering on the edge of war Out of the genteel Northern prosceniums Filled up with imitation Europeans Down along the river of rough damnations By the blood-stained cotton and the slave plantations