WHEN A GIRL IS SEVENTEEN
Sung by: James Clifton Ferrell
Recorded in Memphis, TN 6/30/63
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She thinks it's awful mean
If she can't find someone to make a smash.
She will pucker up her mouth
In a little haughty pout,
And linger on beneath the big mustache.
Oh, how it makes a fellow quiver,
How it makes him jump the river,
When they stick as tight as granulated glue,
But you better not tell her
You're some other girl's feller,
Or she'll hit you on your smeller if you do.
Oh, it is so awful sweet
Just to think that you could meet
To kiss your love behind the parlor door,
But you better watch out
If the old man's about,
Or you won't get to kiss her anymore.
He jerks a pistol from his pocket,
Then the hammer from its socket,
And he swears he'll blow away his . . . brain,
But the maid, she says he mustn't;
'Tisn't loaded, and he doesn't,
So they go on with their kissing once again.
The old maids, they love it,
And the widow's not above it;
Everybody has a finger in the pie.
Some girls are awful haughty,
Seem to think it's awful naughty,
But the boys are sure to kiss them on the sly.
Now, if you want to kiss her sweetly,
Kiss her sweetly and completely,
Kiss her so as to be nice.
If you want to kiss her,
Make smack or two and miss her,
Then it's kiss her on her kisser once or twice.