Lyrics:
Brass buttons, green silks and silver shoes
My mind was young until she grew
My secret thoughts known only by the few
It was a dream much to real
no dose
Of my hot tail poon tang sweetheart
Sweathog ready to make a silk purse
From a J Paul Getty and his ear
With her face in her beer
Home
diamonds hangin' on my neng-a-lang
Bitches hanging on my dang-a-lang (straight up)
I can tell, baby, I can tell (yeah-ayy-ah)
I can tell, baby, I can
One is to love your neighbor 'till
His wife gets home
Catacombs
Nursery bones
Winter women
Growing stones
Carrying babies
To the river
seventeen, but sixteen)
My village queen! (Not the king, but the queen).
Down by the old (not the new, but the old),
Mill stream (not the river, but
Part of a magic race.
Come back, and believe my love
Baby, come back, and believe my love,
Come back and believe the magic of love.
Hey! Come
[Chorus]
I see a road, and I want to go home
I want to go home; my baby will be waitin' there
With a yellow ribbon in her hair
And I know that
of you
You came you saw you conquered me
When you did that to me, baby
I knew somehow this had to be, hey, yeah
The winds of March that make my heart
you're invited now
By the way, by the way
When we walk up to the preacher I'll say
Yes sir, that's my baby
No sir, I don't mean maybe
Yes sir,
a gal by the cut o' her clothes
And you'll stand out, in buttons and bows.
I'll love you in buckskin
Or skirts that you've homespun
But I'll love
a gal by the cut o' her clothes
And you'll stand out, in buttons and bows.
I'll love you in buckskin
Or skirts that you've homespun
But I'll love
the poor boy down
Sure as you're born, they bought me a silk suit
Put luggage in my hands,
And I woke up high over Albuquerque
On a jet to the promised
you're invited now
By the way
By the way
When we walk up to the preacher
I'll say
"Yes sir, that's my baby
No sir, I don't mean maybe
Yes sir,
One is to love your neighbor 'till
His wife gets home
Catacombs
Nursery bones
Winter women
Growing stones
Carrying babies
To the river
Everybody's gotta do the Christmas Bop, yeah.
Hey baby, lend me your ear,
Christmas time is drawing near.
Get out your silk jeans
And your
you)
Woke up and I can't get you out my head
(I've tried, I've tried, come on)
After last night, I don't know what to do
(Baby, you've got to tell
Sometimes you're my mama
Sometimes my little baby girl
Occasionally you're my puttana
But then you've sweet, sweet sweet love
And it makes me
lying there
And all around her feet flowers bloomed
But they were made of silk and sequins two by two
usin'
Those silks and satins and linen that shows
And I'm all yours in buttons and bows
My bones denounce the buckboard bounce
And the cactus hurts
Quit dreaming this is real life baby
All my love, you're my all
They way you move, you're in control
The way you talk, the way you dress
Your
champagne on ice
Lucky for you, that's what I like, that's what I like
Lucky for you, that's what I like, that's what I like
Sex by the fire at night
Silk
Stewball was a good horse, he wore his head high
And the mane on his fore top was fine as silk thread
I rode him in England, I rode him in Spain
Stewball was a good horse, he wore his head high
And the mane on his fore top was fine as silk thread
I rode him in England, I rode him in Spain
Ooh! Hey, hey, now!
Alright,
You went away, had your chance to say
"I love you and I need you baby"
Yeah, but even if
Honey, I told you daddy
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