When Louis came home to the flat,|
He hung up his coat and his hat,
He gazed all around,
But no wifey he found,
So he said "where can Flossie be at?"
A note on the table he spied,
He read it just once, then he cried
It ran: "Louis dear,
It's too slow for me here
So I think I will go for a ride!"
The dresses that hung in the hall,|
Were gone, she had taken them all,
She took all his rings
And the rest of his things,
The picture he missed from the wall.
"What moving?" the janitor said,
"Your rent is paid three months ahead."
"What good is the flat?"
Said poor Louis: "read that!"
And the janitor smiled as he read.
Meet me in St. Louis, Louis,
Meet me at the fair,
Don't tell me the lights are shining
Any place but there,
We will dance the hoochee koochee,
I will be your tootsie wootsie,
If you will meet me in St. Louis, Louis,
Meet me at the fair!"
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