Delia, oh, Delia

Delia all my life

If I hadn't have shot poor Delia

I'd have had her for my wife

Delia's gone; one more round, Delia's gone

I went up to Memphis

And I met Delia there

Found her in her parlor

And I tied to her chair

Delia's gone; one more round, Delia's gone

She was low-down and triflin'

And she was cold and mean

Kind of evil, make me want to grab my submachine

Delia's gone; one more round, Delia's gone

First time I shot her, I shot her in the side

Hard to watch her suffer

But with the second shot, she died

Delia's gone; one more round, Delia's gone

But jailer, oh, jailer

Jailer, I can't sleep

'Cause all around my bedside

I hear the patter of Delia's feet

Delia's gone; one more round, Delia's gone

So if your woman's devilish

You can let her run

Or you can bring her down and do her

Like Delia got done

Delia's gone; one more round, Delia's gone

Delia's gone; one more round, Delia's gone