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Down in Mississippi |
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It's a perfect time of year |
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To break out the jumper cables |
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And try to crank this ol' |
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John Deere |
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Well, I can't wait to fire it up |
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And put 'er into gear |
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I know I should be hurtin' |
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But I'm smiling ear to ear' |
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Cause I'm mowin' down the roses |
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I'm mowin' down the roses |
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I'm mowin' down the roses |
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That you planted in our yard |
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I poured out your purty perfume |
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Straight down the toilet bowl |
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And I ripped your face straight off the wall |
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Left nothing but some holes |
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I loaded up your closets |
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Into fifteen garbage bags |
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And I smoked 'em with your potpourri |
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On a burn pile in the back |
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Now I'm mowin' down the roses |
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I'm mowin' down the roses |
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I'm mowin' down the roses |
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That you planted in our yard |
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Down in Mississippi |
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It's getting perfectly clear |
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That anything you used to love |
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Just ain't gonna grow round here |
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I'm mowin' down the roses |
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That you planted in our yard |
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I'm mowin' down the roses |
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I'm mowin' down the roses |
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I'm mowin' down the roses |
