Copyright, 1896, by Spaulding & Gray.
Words and Music by Bogart and O'Brien.
Oh, I'll tell you of a lady, her name is Slew-Foot Sal,
A yaller gal is she.
She's out alone each evening, she never needs a pal,
She's heavy and she weighs five-thirty-three.
Swifter than a cyclone, tougher than an axe,
For her meals she always eats some nails und carpet tacks.
Whenever she's around, trouble can be found,
Be careful, never tackle Slew-Foot Sal.
Sky-high all the chickens fly,
Razors and guns are hid away;
The dogs are running yet, the river's running wet,
The sheriff leaves the city, when she comes home to stay.
Now the colored quilting party, they gave a masquerade
Three weeks ago to-night.
The tonies were invited, and special plans were laid
To keep the coons away that were not right.
Sal, she got no invite, hair and clothes she tore.
Then she wrote her own invite and passed in thro' the door;
While dancing in a reel, a coon stepped on her heel,
Her mask fell off, and then she started in.
Nineteen coons were never seen,
Fifteen use crutches and a cane:
Some lost their eyes from fright, some lost their appetite,
The rest committed suicide, when Sal yelled out her name.
Oh, the neighbors all decided, police and firemen, too,
They'd run Sal out of town.
Three thousand got together and told what they would do,
They said they'd surely do the job up "brown."
Soon they got a balloon, put her in alone,
She fell out when one mile up, but never hurt a bone,
Electric chairs were tried, their currents she defied,
No lightning ever struck could do her harm.
Sal tied, "rough on rats" was tried;
Trolleys that strike her overturn:
They threw her in a mire, they set her clothes on fire,
But Sal will be an angel, for she's too tough to burn.