Jerry LeiberL. Butler



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

Ohhhhhh, 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 still the same old messy you

You're sittin there in that fancy chair

Just drinkin' champaigne 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