Christopher Miller

Lyrics

Goodnight, Ruthie Wilson, Goodnight

I met Ruthie Wilson
In a bar on the levee
Ruthie was living upstairs
She'd come down in her housecoat
Wearing these fuzzy white slippers
And I thought, 'Man, Eisenhower was in office
Last time she combed her hair.'
She was drunk as a skunk
She was three sheets to the wind
She was just sixty two
She looked a hundred and ten
Sometimes I'd sit there
And I'd watch in amazement
She'd say, "I murdered my husband
And I buried him in the basement
Sixteen years ago, son, it's true.
Why don't you sing, 'I'm Walkin' The Floor Over You.' "

I'm singing this love song
To old Ruthie Wilson
She drank whiskey like water
That flowed like her tears
I'm singin' this love song
To old Ruthie Wilson
I wish to God I'd sung to her
When she was still here.

When she walked through that door
I was happy to see her
But I was happy when she'd get up and go
Back up to her room
With it's view of the alley
Where broken bottles of cheap wine
Bled to death down below
She was comic and tragic
She was laughter and tears
The disappointments had taken their toll
And when she died she was alone
On that hot summer's night
I guess when the whiskey evaporated
Well, so did her soul

Oh, I'm singin' this love song
To old Ruthie Wilson
She drank whiskey like water
That flowed like her tears
I'm singin' this love song to old Ruthie Wilson
I wish to God I'd sung to her
When she was still here

I remember Marilyn just sayin',
'Ruthie's troubles are over.
Ruthie's troubles are over at last.'
OB, Jeff, and I we drank shots to her passing
Until I thought I saw that old face
Staring up out of my glass.
It has been years since the old girl has died
I remember her still in my prayers
The old Irish Rose who was choked by the thorns
The Romany Club's patron saint of despair

Oh, I'm singin' this love song
To old Ruthie Wilson
She drank whiskey like water
That flowed like her tears
I'm singin' this love song
To old Ruthie Wilson
I wish to God I'd sung to her
When she was still here.

Some drunks walk the streets
And some live in mansions
And many have no one who cares
Well, now they can pray
To my old friend, Ruthie Wilson
The Romany Club's patron saint of despair
Oh, I feel for the ones
That don't know the difference
When that old whiskey has made 'em its fool
For the ones who lie down
On their backs in the gutter
Tellin' you
It's an olympic size pool

Oh, I'm singin' this love song
To old Ruthie Wilson
She drank whiskey like water
That flowed like her tears
I'm singin' this love song
To old Ruthie Wilson
I wish to God I'd sung to her
When she was still here.

I'd sing, 'Too-Ra-Loo-Ra Loo-Ra
Too-Ra-Loo-Ra- Li'.
King Jesus in Heaven
Tell the old girl I miss her
Goodnight, Ruthie Wilson, Goodnight.