Tom: C
G C
Oh, where I come from, there ain?t nobody
G C
Nobody quite like you
G C
Who blessed my soul is cold on Sunday, and
G C
Always evades the truth
G C
Whose lingo comes from God knows where, and he
G C
Surely knows more than I
G C
Who also knows how mocked I am
G C
When you call me your kuschty rye
(Chorus)
G C
And I say hey, hey honey
G C
I hold you way up too high for me
G C
Whoa, now come on baby
G C
I put you way up too high for me
G C
She learned me life is sweet, and God is good
G C
And he always will provide
G C
She taught me all I ever knew, and she
G C
Taught me more besides
