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Hung my cotton dress on rusted wire |
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Up there on Pilahatchee Bridge |
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Just a crazy roughneck's daughter |
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Jumped head-first into the water |
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Baptized away my sins |
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Hitched to town with Bobby Jo and Tommy |
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Couple of lookers, new best friends |
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We slipped in the back of Sunday service |
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Know them church ladies, they heard us |
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Bum smoke money from the offering |
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Mama said, "Idle hands are Devil's handiwork |
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Oh, the trouble you'll get into |
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You got nothin' better to do, got nothin' better to do |
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You got nothin' better to do, got nothin' better to do" |
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Yeah! |
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Sign read 'Bait, Chips, Beer and Ammunition' |
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That Slim-Jim bag boy hadn't a prayer |
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Well, I hiked my skirt and did the talkin' |
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While them boys were busy walkin' |
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Case of .5 out the back door |
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Hid deep in the Mississippi backwoods |
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We danced and played around 'til dark |
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Well, I had them wrestlin' for my first kiss |
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Turned into a fight and they missed |
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Me speedin' off in Tommy's car |
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Mama said, "Idle hands are Devil's handiwork |
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Oh, the trouble you'll get into |
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You got nothin' better to do, got nothin' better to do |
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You got nothin' better to do, got nothin' better to do" |
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Yeah! |
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Nobody hurt, nobody harmed |
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Nobody's business but my own |
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Mama said, "Idle hands are Devil's handiwork |
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Oh, the trouble you'll get into" |
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You got nothin' better to do, got nothin' better to do |
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You got nothin' better to do, got nothin' better to do |
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You got nothin' better to do, got nothin' better to do |
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You got nothin' better to do, got nothin' better to do |
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You got nothin' better to do, babe, got nothin' better to do |
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You got nothin' better to do, babe, you got nothin' better to do, no no |
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Got nothin' better to do, babe, you got nothin' better to do, no no |
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Got nothin' better to do, babe, you got nothin' better to do, no no! |
