theres a story i heard toldnncomes from the banks where the odd sailboat goesnnnow i dont know if its true but i say sonnsurely in it you will recognize somebody that you knownnnnthere was a gal in new orleansnnshe could be sweet but my friend she could be meannnreally with her there was very litle in betweennnshe kissed gentlemens lips beneath the sweet olive treesnnnnthey never knew their womannnshe never knew her mannni wanna know my womannnwant her to know her mannnwell if you know you too many peoplennyour hearts bound to go badnnnnone dude she knew got sick with hurtnnhe overheard his babys filth and dirtnnso he hid a 22 beneath his shirtnnthen went to pay a her a visit at the place in which she workednnnnwell if you find someone you love a lotnnid recommend you give it everything you gotnneither way you'll be sittin pissin in a potnnbut at least it will be with someone you love and you trustnnnnnobody knows their womannnnobody knows their mannni'd die to know my womannnkill for her to know her mannnjust want to take it beyond the initial shakingnnof my own sweaty nervous handnnor else i might be bad