Vidalia

Oh, Vidalia,
Vidalia why?
Why? Why? Why?
When I think of you
all I do
is cry.

When I was young
the things I done,
the only one
that makes me wanna cry -
Vidalia alone.
Vidalia,
Vidalia.
She died.

She ran from me,
she did not see
the onion truck,
the tragedy.
On the street my Vidalia!
She died.
Oh, she died.

Why? Why? Why?
I don't know why.
Why my Vidalia
had to die.

Now if my knife
an onion does slice
I think of Vidalia,
and I cry.
Cry! Cry! Cry!
Oh Vidalia!
Now you know the reason
why.
Why onions
always make me cry.