Ida RedLightin' the parlor, firein' the great clockOn the mantel, sayin' it's a-gettin' lateCurtains on the windows, snowy whiteThe parlor is pleasant on Sunday nightIda Red, Ida RedI'm a plump fool about Ida RedChicken in the bread tray, packin' out doughGranny, will your dog bite? No, childHurry up, boys, and don't fool around*** your partner and truck on downIda Red, Ida RedI'm a plump fool about Ida RedLamp on the table, a picture on the wallThere's a pretty sofa and that's not allI'm not mistaken, I'm sure I'm rightSome other old boys in the parlor tonightIda Red, Ida RedI'm a plump fool about Ida RedOh, look out, Bill, here comes FatherMy old mistress swore to meWhen she died, she'd set me freeShe lived so long till her head got baldTaken to know she's not to die at allIda Red, Ida RedI'm a plump fool about Ida RedHurry up, boys, and don't be slowMeetin' your partner, do-si-doAh, oh, an old cowboyLights are burnin' ***, the fires are gettin' lowSomebody says it's time to goI hear the whisper, gentle and lightDon't forget to come next Saturday nightIda Red, Ida RedI'm a plump fool about Ida Red