She was a level-headed dancer on the road to alcohol I was just a soldier on my way to Montreal She pressed her chest against me About the time the juke box broke She gave me a peck on the back of the neck These are the words she spoke
Blow up your TV throw away your paper Move to the country, build you a home Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches Try an' find Jesus on your own
I sat there at the table and I acted real naive I knew that topless lady had something up her sleeve She danced around the bar room And she did the hoochy-coo Sang her song all night long Tellin' me what to do
Blow up your TV throw away your paper Move to the country, build you a home Plant a little garden, garden, eat a lot of peaches Try an' find Jesus on your own
Well, I was young and hungry, just about to leave that place Just as I was goin', she looked me in the face I said you must know the answer She said, no but I'll give it a try To this very day we've been livin' our way And here is the reason why
We blew up our TV threw away our paper Move to the country, built us a home Had a lot of children, fed 'em on peaches They all found Jesus on their own
Blow up your TV throw away your paper Move to the country, build you a home Plant a little garden, garden, eat a lot of peaches Try an' find Jesus on your ownTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
