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She was a level-headed dancer on the road to alcohol |
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I was just a soldier on my way to Montreal |
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Well, she pressed her chest against me |
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About the time the jukebox broke |
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She give me a peck on the back of the neck |
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And these are the words she spoke |
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Blow Up Your TV, throw away your paper |
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Go to the country, build you a home |
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Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches |
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Try and find Jesus on your own |
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I sat there at the table and I acted real naive |
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Cause I knew that topless lady, she had something up her sleeve |
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She danced around the room awhile and she did the hoochy cooch |
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Yea sing a song all night long tellin' me what to do |
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Blow Up Your TV, throw away your paper |
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Go to the country, build you a home |
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Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches |
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Try and find Jesus on your own |
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But I was young and hungry and about to leave that place |
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Just as I was going she looked me in the face |
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I said \"You must know the answer\" |
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She said \"No, but I'll give it a try\" |
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And to this day we've been livin' our way |
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Here is the reason why |
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We blew up the TV, threw away the paper |
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Went to the country, built us a home |
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Had a lotta children, fed 'em on peaches |
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They all found Jesus on their own |
