Allison Burnside Express - Nutbush City Limits | Текст песни

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• Allison Burnside Express
• Nutbush City Limits

A church house gin house
A school house outhouse
On highway number nineteen
The people keep the city clean

They call it Nutbush, oh Nutbush
They call it Nutbush city limits

Twenty-five for speed limit
Motorcycle not allowed in it
You go to store on Friday

You go to church on Sunday

They call it Nutbush, oh Nutbush
They call it Nutbush city limits

You go to the fields on weekdays
And have a picnic on Labor Day
You go to town on Saturday
And go to church every Sunday

They call it Nutbush, oh Nutbush
They call it Nutbush city limits

No whiskey for sale
If you get drunk no bail
Salt pork and molasses
Is all you get in jail

They call it Nutbush, oh Nutbush
They call it Nutbush city limits

A little old town in Tennessee
A quiet little old community
A one-horse town
You have to watch what you're putting down
In old Nutbush, oh Nutbush

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