She was a level-headed dancer on the road to alcohol
I was just another soldier on my way home from the war
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 the TV, throw away the papers
Go to the country, build you a home
Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches
Try and find Jesus on your own
Well, I sat there at the table and I acted real naive
I knew that topless lady had something up her sleeve
Well, she danced around the barroom and she did the hoochie-coo
She sang her song all night long, telling me what to do
Blow up the TV, throw away the papers
Go to the country, build you a home
Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches
Try and find Jesus on your own
Well, I was young and hungry and about to leave that place
When just as I was leaving, well, she looked me in the face
I said, You must know the answer
She said, No, but I'll give it a try
And to this very day we've been living our way
Here is the reason why
We blew up your TV, threw away our papers
Went to the country, built us a home
Had a lot of children, fed them on peaches
They all found Jesus on their own