Little Amsterdam

Little Amsterdam In a southern town Hominy get it on the plate girl Momma keep your head down Momma it wasn’t my bullet Don’t take me back to the Range, back to the Range I’m just comin’ out of the cell in my brain Don’t take me back to the Range, back to the Range Cause girl you’ve got to know these days Which side you’re on Momma got shit She loved a brown man Then she built a bridge in the Sheriff’s bed She’d do anything to save her man You see her olives they are cold pressed And her best friend is a sun dress But Momma it wasn’t my bullet Don’t take me back to the Range, back to the Range I’m just comin’ out of the cell in my brain Don’t take me back to the Range, back to the Range Cause girl you’ve got to know these days All alone got a girl in the city Hey, got a room and a place for two Got a goat and a phone, I said boy You are my Fifth Avenue Round and around and around I go Round and around this time for keeps Say a word to the hangman for me, my baby Round and around and around I go Round and around this time for keeps Say a word to the hangman for me, me and my babe Father only you can save my soul And playing that organ must count for something, something Girl you’ve got to know these days Which side you’re on Little Amsterdam Shut down today They buried her with a butter bean bouquet And the Sheriff now can’t ride away Like he said into the sunset And I won’t say That he shouldn’t have paid But Momma It wasn’t my bullet