She was a level-headed dancer on the road to alcohol
And I was just a soldier on my way to Montreal
Well, she pressed her chest against me
About the time the jukebox broke
Yeah, she give me a peck on the back of the neck
And these are the words she spoke:
Blow up your TV, throw away your paper
Go to the country, build you a home
Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches
Try and find Jesus on your own
Well, I sat there at the table and I acted real naive
For I knew that topless lady had somethin' up her sleeve
Well, she danced around the bar room and she did the hoochy-coo
Yeah, she sang her song all night long, tellin' me what to do
Blow up your TV, throw away your paper
Go to the country, build you a home
Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches
Try and find Jesus on your own
Well, I was young and hungry and about to leave that place
When just as I was leavin', well, she looked me in the face
I said "You must know the answer"
She said, "No, but I'll give it a try"
And to this very day we've been livin' our way
Here is the reason why
We blew up our TV, threw away our paper
Went to the country, built us a home
Had a lot of children, fed 'em on peaches
They all found Jesus on their own