She was a level headed dancer on the road to alcohol
And I was just a soldier on the way to Montreal
Well, she pressed her chest against me
About the time the jukebox broke
She gave me a peck on the back of the neck
And these are the words she spoke
Blow up your T.V., throw away your paper
Move to the country, build you a home
Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches
Try to find Jesus on your own
So I sat there at the table and I acted real naive
'Cause I knew that topless lady
Had something up her sleeve
Well, she danced around the bar room
And she did the hoochy-coo
She sang her song all night long, tellin' me what to do
Blow up your T.V., throw away your paper
Move to the country, build you a home
[ The Avett Brothers Lyrics are found on www.findlyrics.com ]
Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches
Try to 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 have the answer"
"She said, "No but I'll give it a try"
And to this very day we've been livin' our way
And here is the reason why
We blew up our T.V., threw away our paper
Moved to the country, built us a home
Had a lot of children, fed 'em on peaches
They all found Jesus on their own
Blow up your T.V., throw away your paper
Move to the country, build you a home
Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches
Try to find Jesus on your own
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