Martina Mcbride - When God Fearin Women Get The Blues текст песни

Lock up your husbands

Lock up your sons

Lock up your whiskey cabinets

Girls lock up your guns

Lock up the beauty shop

No telling if theyve heard the news

Call the boys downtown at neiman marcus

Tell em lock up them high-heeled shoes

When God fearin women get the blues

There aint no slap dab atellin what theyre gonna do

Run around yellin "i gotta mustang

Itll do eighty

You dont have to be my baby

Ive stirred my last batch of gravy

You dont have to be my baby"

Call all the deacons

Call the ladies aid

Call all the altos, sopranos, tenors, call every bass

Well, call all the pentecostals

And bring that anointing oil too

Well call the preacher

Hes the only one can reach her

And there aint no time to lose

When God fearin women get the blues

There aint no slap dab atellin what theyre gonna do

Run around yellin "i gotta mustang

Itll do eighty

You dont have to be my baby

Ive stirred my last batch of gravy

You dont have to be my baby"

Shes on all our prayer lists

Shes on all our hearts

As for the easter cantata

We dont know wholl sing her part.

When God fearin women get the blues

There aint no slap dab atellin what theyre gonna do

Run around yellin "i gotta mustang

Itll do eighty

You dont have to be my baby

Ive stirred my last batch of gravy

You dont have to be my baby"