Down Home Girl

Lord I swear, the perfume you wear
Is made out of turnip greens
And every time that I kiss you girl
It tastes like pork and beans

Even though you're wearin' them
Citified high heels
I can tell by your giant steps
That you've been walkin' through cotton fields

Oh, you're some down home girl

Your shoes are green, your dress is red
And your wiggy head is powder blue
But underneath all of that mess
Well, you're the same old messy you

You're sittin' there in that fancy chair
Just drinkin' champagne like a movie star
When ya oughta be sittin' on a sidewalk
Drinkin' white lightnin', out of a jelly jar

Oh, you're some down home girl

Dimples in your pretty cheeks
And dimples in your knees
You walk by and baby I
Can smell magnolia trees

You tell me you're from New York, baby
But I know you're from way down South
I can hear a Mississippi mama
Evey time you open up your mouth

Oh, you're some down home girl
Oh, you're some down home girl