Down Home Girl

Well, I swear, your perfume, baby, is made out of turnip greens Every time I kiss you, girl, it tastes like pork and beans Even though you're wearin' those up-town high heels I can tell from your giant step You've been walkin' through the cotton fields Oh, you're so down home, girl Everything in your monkey child, takes my breath away Well, every time you move like that, girl, I got to get down and pray Girl, you know that dress you're wearin', is made out of fibreglass Every time you move like that, girl, I got to go to Sunday mass Oh, you're so down home, girl (Alright) I'm gonna take you to the muddy river, and push you in So, I can watch the water roll on down your velvet skin I'm gonna take you down to New Orleans, down in Dixie land So, I can watch you do the second line with an umbrella in your hand Oh, you're so down home, girl (Oh-oh-oh)