Hailee Steinfeld - Nutbush City Limits | Текст песни

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• Hailee Steinfeld
• Nutbush City Limits

A church house, gin house,
A school house, outhouse.
On highway number 19,
The people keep the city clean.
They call it Nutbush, oh Nutbush,
Call it Nutbush city limits. (Nutbush city)

Twenty-five is the speed limit,
Motorcycle not allowed in it.
You go to store on Friday,
You go to church on Sunday.
They call it Nutbush, little old town
Oh Nutbush,
They call it Nutbush city limits. (Nutbush city)

You go the fields on weekdays,
And have a picnic on Labor day.
You go to town on Saturdays
But go to church every Sunday
They call it Nutbush, oh Nutbush
They call it Nutbush city limits (Nutbush city)
Hey!

Alright, hey, hey, yeah!
Oh, yeah, yeah!
Ha, ha, ha, ha, hey
Oh, yeah (Nutbush city limits)
Nutbush
Woah

No whiskey for sale
You can't cop no bail
Salt pork and molasses
Is all you get in jail
They call it Nutbush, oh Nutbush
They call it Nutbush city,
Nutbush city limits

Little old town in Tennessee, it's called (Nutbush city limits)
A quite little old community
A one-horse town you have to watch
What you're puttin' down
Nutbush city limits, Nutbush city
Oh Nutbush
They call it Nutbush
They call it Nutbush city limits!

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