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Lyric provided by www.seekalyric.com |
If you see a pick-up truck with a plastic 'coon dog Mounted on the hood If you pass trailer with a concrete donkey in the yard An' tires up on the roof An' if you see a woman in a moo-moo Readin' Tarot cards an' palms down by the road That's how you know; that's how you know You're in my neighborhood In my neighborhood There's nothin' ordinary about the regular folk In my neighborhood We make our own wine outta berries we grow A word to the wise: when they turn out the lights It's a free-for-all, y'all, every Saturday night But everybody treats everybody they way they should In my neighborhood When the wind is just right, you can tell they're makin' paper At the mill on Champion Lane When Mabel Johnson goes to fry 'em Rocky Mountain Oysters You can smell 'em from a mile away You might hear the church bells playin' "Sweet Home Alabama" 'Cause the preacher loves rock an' roll That's how you know; that's how you know You're in my neighborhood In my neighborhood There's nothin' ordinary about the regular folk In my neighborhood We make our own wine outta berries we grow A word to the wise: when they turn out the lights It's a free-for-all, y'all, every Saturday night But everybody treats everybody they way they should In my neighborhood In my neighborhood There's nothin' ordinary about the regular folk In my neighborhood We make our own wine outta berries we grow A word to the wise: when they turn out the lights It's a free-for-all, y'all, every Saturday night But everybody treats everybody they way they should In my neighborhood In my neighborhood |