She was sick and tired of country life

little country home, a little country folk

Made her [bad word] cold

Now her mother pines her heart away

Looking for her child in the big black smoke

In the big black smoke

Frailest, purest girl the world has seen

According to her ma, according to her pa

And everybody said

That she knew no sin and did no wrong

Till she walked the streets of the big black smoke

Of the big black smoke

Well, she slept in caffs and coffee bars and bowling alleys

And every penny she had

Was spent on purple hearts and cigarettes

She took all her pretty colored clothes

And ran away from home with the boy next door

For a boy named Joe

And he took her money for the rent

And tried to drag her down in the big black smoke

In the big black smoke, in the big black smoke, in the big black smoke