Your folk song singers all go around a singing
How bad are the men, how sinful are the women:
I got a woman at home with her door left open for me;
I got a woman at home with her gate wide open for me.

These singers going round do the same old thing
Run all my women down on your slick-slidin' string
I got a woman at home with her screen left open for me
I got a woman at home with her blinds wide open for me.

You grizzly bear boys all of you fall high flyers
You're sixteen kids behind me in the passion fires
I got a woman at home with her door left open for me
I got a woman at home with her gate wide open for me.

I'm a high ballad man, I'm a folk singer too;
I sing about the good things men and women do;
I got a woman at home with her sheets left open for me;
I got a woman at home with her blanket wide open for me.

I was first born a-singin' in this big world,
Raised by the laborin' movements of a hundred pretty girls;
I got a woman at home with her arms left open for me.
I got a woman at home with her hands wide open for me.