Prelude
N.C.
“She was the prom queen he was a quarter back of the football team
N.C.
and it all looked so promising, we never thought anything 'ud happen like this
N.C.
and then, all of a sudden, twenty five years of love and devotion, down the drain.”
Intro
D A
Hummm we all heard her hollering, for a country mile,
D G
Cheatin' sure shows a complete lack of style,
D A
Well she, took out three parking meters, and a pedestrians purse,
C G D
The day she quit the Baptist choir and threw that Ford into reverse.
verse 1
D
Lock up your Husbands, lock up your Sons,
D
Lock up your whiskey cabinets, and girls lock up your guns,
D
Lock up the beauty shop there's no tellin' if they've heard the news,
D N.C. D N.C. D N.C. D
Call the boy's downtown and Neiman Marcus tell 'em lock up them high heeled shoes,
Bm G D
When God fearin' women get the blues,
G A
There ain't no slap dabb a tellin' what they're gonna do, Run around yellin',
D G A D
I got a Mustang it'll do 80, you don't have to be my Baby,
D G A D
I stirrd my last batch of crazy, you don't have to be my . . . . . . . . . . Bay hay bee.
verse 2
D
Call all the Deacons, call the Ladies aid,
D
Call all the altos sopranos tenors call every bass,
D
Well, call all the Pentecostals, and bring that anointing oil too,
D N.C. D N.C. D N.C. D
Well, call the Preacher he's the only could reach her and there ain't no time to lose.
Bm G D
When God fearin' women get the blues,
G A
There ain't no slap dabb a tellin' what they're gonna do, Run around yellin',
D G A D
I got a Mustang it'll do 80, you don't have to be my Baby,
D G A D
I stood my last batch of crazy, you don't have to be my . . . . . . . . . . Bay hay bee.
Interlude
D G A A D G A A
Bm N.C. Bm N.C.
She's on all our prayer lists, She's on all our hearts,
G N.C. A N.C.
As for the Easter Cantata, We don't know who'll sing her part.
D D D D
'Let's go girl'.
Bm G D
When God fearin' women get the blues,
G A
There ain't no slap dabb a tellin' what they're gonna do, Run around yellin',
D G A D
I got a Mustang it'll do 80, you don't have to be my Baby,
D G A D
I stood my last batch of crazy, you don't have to be my . . . . . . . . . . Bay hay bee.
Outro
D