| Lyrics |
She was a white skinned black beauty, the daughter of an Indian Her Grandparents raised her in northern Illinois. I call her mother. He was the son of a hellfire holiness preacher woman. They say nobody was wilder, but maybe his brother. I call him father She was young, calling love. He was young, stealing love. We all got together for the first time last September. I said "
Somebody take a photograph I've got a camera." Now I got me a favorite picture.
|