I can see Martina as a child of three. In the sad seclusion of her nursery. Go outside, Martina! Go outside and play. Never speak, Martina, put your toys away. So her days were loveless. And her
Well, that mean old dirty Frisco. And that low down Santa Fe. Mean old Frisco and that low down Santa Fe You know they take my girl away. Lord, and they blow back out on me Well, my mama, she done
Well, that mean old dirty Frisco. And that low down Santa Fe. Mean old Frisco and that low down Santa Fe. You know they take my girl away. Lord, and they blow back out on me Well, my mama, she
