Last Child

I'm dreaming tonight
I'm leaving back home
Right!

Take me back to a south Tallahassee
Down cross the bridge to my sweet sassafras
Can't stand up on my feet in the city
Got to get back to the real nitty-gritty

Yes sir, no sir
Don't come close to my home sweet home
Can't catch no dose of my hot tail poon tang sweetheart sweat hog
Ready to make a silk purse from a J. Paul Getty and his ear
With her face and a beer

Home sweet home

Get out in the field, put the mule in the stable
Ma, she's a cookin', put the eats on the table
Hate's in the city and my love's in the middle
Hands on the plow and my feet's in the ghetto

Stand up, sit down, don't do nothing
Ain't no good when boss man's
Stuffin' it down their throats with paper notes
And babies cry while cities lie at their feet
When you're rockin' the street

Home sweet home

Mama, take me home sweet home

I was a last child (I was just a punk in the street)
I was a last child (I was just a punk in the street)
I was a last child (I was just a punk in the street)
I was a last child (I was just a punk in the street)



Credits
Writer(s): Steven Victor Tallarico, Brad E Whitford
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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