American girls. American guys.
They’ll always stand up and salute, they’ll always recognize... When they see old Glory flyin’, there’s a lotta men dead. So they can sleep in peace at night when they lay down their head...
“She’s got a perfect figure that’ll stop you where you are.
Why, everytime I look at her, I think of my guitar.
She’s my Texarkana Baby...”
That’s racy for 1948.