Fancy

I remember it all very well lookin' back
It was the summer that I turned eighteen
We lived in a one-room, run down shack
On the outskirts of New Orleans
We didn’t have money for food or rent
To say the least we were hard-pressed
When Momma spent every last penny we had
To buy me a dancin' dress
Momma washed and combed and curled my hair,
Then she painted my eyes and lips
And I stepped into the satin dancin' dress
It had a split in the side clean up to my hips
It was red, velvet-trimmed, to fit me good
And standin' back from the lookin' glass
Was a woman
Where a half grown kid had stood
«Here's your one chance, Fancy, don’t let me down!
Here’s your one chance, Fancy, don’t let me down.
Lord forgive me for what I do,
But if you want out then it’s up to you
Don