| Lights in the parlor fires in the grate |
| LoOk on the mantle says its getting late |
| Urtains on the window snowy white |
| The parlors pleasant on Sunday night |
| Ida Red Ida Red |
| I’m a plumb fool bout Ida Red |
| Lamp on the table picture on the wall |
| There’s a pretty sofa and that’s not all |
| If I’m not mistaken and I’m sure I’m right |
| There’s somebody else in the parlor tonight |
| Hiken in the bread bin peking out dough |
| Granny will ya dog bite no hild no |
| Hurry up boys and don’t fool around |
| Grab your partner and truk on down |
| Lights a burning dim fire’s a getting low |
| Somebody says its time to go |
| I hear the whisper gentle and light |
| Don’t forget to ome next Sunday night |
| My old Missus swore to me |
| When she died shed set me free |
| She lived so long her head got bald |
| She took a notion not to die at all |