79'

eleven after a line, pull her up mighty fine

heaven was a catfish, nothing else blind

whoa to the fiddler at uncle toms cabin

had the wind sail her south, fur scattered

all battered, and hadn't yet started to propel

with ten strips peeled, not a lemon off my back

she still hadn't had it yet, let the truth be known

why, when six came up to rinse the abyss

I frequently slapped the peddle to solve this

drenchingly, breaking the wrench

crooked Holly twisted up the features

vision pure and sin stiff ran wicket to the wind

he lifted a hardened kitten driven mist

Advil down its spine kiss governor from out in the sky

grow cows hair or get out the snare

spliffed up, come around, came through

stood,em down dam delight up one day next your down

nothing stood up eleven jaws tight

dropped say you couldn't be the one

ford her north south would pull her off

CAUSE SHES MY 79'

AND THAT’S ALLRIGHT WITH ME