| Lord I swear the perfume you wear
|
| Was made out of turnip greens
|
| And every time I kiss you girl
|
| It tastes like pork and beans
|
| Even though you’re wearin' them
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| Citified high heels
|
| I can tell by your giant step
|
| You been walkin' through the cotton fields
|
| Oh, you’re so down home girl
|
| Every time you monkey child
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| You take my breath away
|
| And every time you move like that
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| I gotta get down and pray
|
| Don’t you know that dress of yours
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| Was made out of fiberglass
|
| And every time you move like that
|
| I gotta go to Sunday mass
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| Oh, you’re so down home girl
|
| Oh, you’re so down home girl
|
| I’m gonna take you to the muddy river
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| And push you in
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| Just to watch the water roll on
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| Down your velvet skin
|
| I’m gonna take you back to New Orleans
|
| Down in Dixieland
|
| I’m gonna watch you do the second line
|
| With a umbrella in your hand
|
| Oh, you’re so down home girl
|
| I’m with you baby
|
| You’re so down home
|
| Ow! |
| Yeah, too much
|
| Outta sight
|
| You’re so down home girl |