She's too much for my mirror;
She almost makes me lose it.
The way she abuse it
Makes me almost never wanna use it.

Well mend your heart and mind and sould.
Old Chicago, she's a woman that'll make a young man a bum.
She howl like the wind,
Makin' my heart grow cold.
Make me long for that little red fum.

She make things fly and she make things roll.
She got me way over here
And I'm hungry and cold.
I remember my mother told me I oughtta be choosey.
That was way back when;
I thought she was my friend,
But now I find out she was a floozy.

I remember the butterflies and the sweet smell of corn
And the bubblin' fish in that little pond.
Oh Loozy!
How I long for you.
She's too much for my mirror.
That little floozy, oh how I fear her.
Oooh Loozy!