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She does the laundry in an old metal tub
She hacks a chicken to make her some grub
She'd rather take her corn from a jug
That's why the lady is a hick

She lives in tatters, no time for a bath
She takes her shoes off for all the high math
She lives in squalor, three rooms and a path
That's why the lady is a hick

She loves the free, fresh wind in her hair
Life without care
She's broke, but it's o'k
She hates West Virginia, it's cold and it's sick
That's why the lady is a hick

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This entry was posted on Monday, May 13, 2002 at 12:08 PM. You can skip to the end and leave a response.