Lyrics Amy Grant - The Young Fresh Fellows

Amy Grant

Amy!
Amy Grant!
She comes home from church
She takes off her pants
That’s what I like about Amy Grant
When she comes home from church
She gotta take of her pants
That’s what I like about Amy Grant
I’m talking about Amy… Amy…AMY, huuh!
Amy Grant!
And those songs she writes
And Lordy the way she sings
Too bad her fans don’t care about such little things
She don’t spare the child
She don’t spoil the rod
She just gets rich cause she works for God
I’m talking about Amy… Amy…AMY
Amy Grant!
Now when she first met Jesus
Didn’t know what to say
But he gave her a guitar
And told her what to play
He said, «Amy don’t you play no modern jazz
Don’t you play none of that hard rock
What the people want to hear is pure unadulterated schlock»
I’m talking to Amy… Amy…AMY, huuh!
Amy Grant!
Amy!
Amy Grant!
Alone in bed
Late at night
She fantasizes about Barry White
Barry!
Barry White!
Barry!
Barry White!
Talking about Amy… Amy…AMY
Amy Grant!