Now, listen while I tell you about a place I know Down in Tennessee where the tall corn grows Hidden from the world in a bunch of pines Where the moon's a little bashful and it seldom shines Civilized people live there all right But they all go native on Saturday Night Oh, well the music is a fiddle and a cracked guitar They get their kicks from an old fruit jar They do the boogie to an old square dance The woods are full of couples looking for romance Somebody takes a brogan and knocks out the light Yes, they all go native on Saturday night When they really get together there's a lot of fun They all know the other fellow packs a gun Everybody does his best to act just right Cause there's gonna be funeral if you start a fight They struggle and they shuffle till broad daylight Yes, they all go native on Saturday night. Well, now you've heard my story about a place I know Down in Tennessee where the tall corn grows Hidden from the world in a bunch of pines Where the moon's a little bashful and it seldom shines Civilized people live there all right But they all go native on Saturday NightTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
