Jerry Leiber/L. 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 wearinˇ® 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
N Artists/Bands 
Nazareth CDs in sales 
