A Bowl Of Red
Tom Russell Lyrics


You don't put beans in chilli
You never water good whiskey down
And never play poker with a man named 'Doc'
On the Spanish side of town

And if you want to go peekin' at the doctor's daughter
You better pay the old man his bread
Then it's a short, short ride from hell to heaven
Ridin' on a bowl of red
I'm talkin' about sweet Lorene, the chilli queen
Down at number nine Pecos Street
She's got bull meat hangin' up above her head
And chilli peppers down at her feet

She's got an iron pot smokin' on a woodsmoke stove
Near an antique feather bed
Where it's a short, short ride from hell to heaven
Ridin' on a bowl of red

Here's the recipe,
Bull meat, crab meat, pig's feet, chicken feet
I've even seen her use a rabbit's head
Cemino, oregano, celanto, let it go
Then sop it up with sourdough bread

Let it boil one day, you'll be rollin' in the hay
Lorene keeps a man well fed
Just walk on down to number nine
Say, "Gimme a little bowl of red"

Peter Piper picked a bunch of chilli peppers
Tell me how many packs did Peter Piper pick
Then he took 'em on down to sweet Lorene
Said, "I need a bowl of red real quick"

She put Peter Piper's peppers in a pot on the stove
She put Peter Piper in her feather bed
And now Peter Piper's pickin' peppers all day
Just to get his daily bowl of red

Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Written by: THOMAS GEORGE RUSSELL

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