Down Home Girl - Nazareth
Jerry leiber/l. butler Lord I swear, the perfume you wear Is made out of turnip greens And every time that I kiss you girl It tastes like pork and beans Even though youre wearin them Citified high heels I can tell by your giant steps That youve been walkin through cotton fields Ohhhhhh, youre some down home girl Your shoes are green, your dress is red And your wiggy head is powder blue But underneath all of that mess, Well youre still the same old messy you Youre sittin there in that fancy chair Just drinkin champaigne like a movie star When ya oughta be sittin on a sidewalk Drinkin white lightnin Out of a jelly jar Oh, youre some down home girl Dimples in your pretty cheeks And dimples in your knees You walk by and baby i Can smell magnolia trees You tell me youre from new york baby But I know youre from way down south I can hear a mississippi mama Evey time you open up your mouth Oh, youre some down home girl Oh, youre some down home girl
Artist: Nazareth
Title: Down Home Girl