| There ain’t no way
|
| I’m gonna let the good times go,
|
| There ain’t no way
|
| I’m gonna let the good times go,
|
| The touch of my woman
|
| can soothe my soul,
|
| When she makes me feel right
|
| that’s when the good times roll.
|
| Oh she’s a healer to me,
|
| Oh yeah.
|
| My blue-eyed woman is a mystery to me,
|
| My blue-eyed woman is a mystery to me,
|
| The touch of my woman
|
| can soothe my soul,
|
| When she makes me feel right
|
| that’s when the good times roll.
|
| Oh she’s a healer to me,
|
| Oh yeah.
|
| Way out on the prairie
|
| where the wheat fields grow,
|
| Way out on the prairie
|
| back where the wheat fields grow,
|
| I stop to slap plastic at an Esso station,
|
| About a thousand miles from my destination.
|
| Oh she’s a healer to me,
|
| Oh yeah, she’s a healer to me.
|
| All I got is a broken heart,
|
| And I don’t try to hide it
|
| when I play my guitar.
|
| My blue-eyed woman is a healer to me,
|
| Without that woman I’m history,
|
| My blue-eyed woman is a love ghost,
|
| Without that woman I’m toast.
|
| Oh she’s a healer to me,
|
| Oh yeah, she’s a healer to me.
|
| All I got is a broken heart,
|
| And I don’t try to hide it
|
| when I play my guitar. |