She's there at the bar every evening,
Face powdered and cheeks painted red.
Her beauty has faded too early,
Brought on by the fast life she's led.
She's more to be pitied than scolded.
She needs to be loved, not despised.
Too much beer and wine, Too many good times,
The lure of the honky-tonk wrecked her young life.
She once was the bell of the ballroom.