Print

She was a level headed dancer on the road to alcohol And I was just a soldier on the way to Montreal Well, she pressed her chest against me About the time the jukebox broke She gave me a peck on the back of the neck And these are the words she spoke Blow up your T.V., throw away your paper Move to the country, build you a home Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches Try to find Jesus on your own So I sat there at the table and I acted real naive 'Cause I knew that topless lady Had something up her sleeve Well, she danced around the bar room And she did the hoochy-coo She sang her song all night long, tellin' me what to do Blow up your T.V., throw away your paper Move to the country, build you a home [ The Avett Brothers Lyrics are found on www.findlyrics.com ] Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches Try to find Jesus on your own Well, I was young and hungry and about to leave that place SongtexteWhen just as I was leavin', well she looked me in the face I said, "You must have the answer" "She said, "No but I'll give it a try" And to this very day we've been livin' our way And here is the reason why We blew up our T.V., threw away our paper Moved to the country, built us a home Had a lot of children, fed 'em on peaches They all found Jesus on their own Blow up your T.V., throw away your paper Move to the country, build you a home Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches Try to find Jesus on your own Aus Songtexte Mania