The Ballad Of Martha White
THE BALLAD OF MARTHA WHITE
I'm southern born and corn bred
My folks are just the same
I got my southern heritage
I got my papaw's name
I fell in love with a little girl when I was six years old
She had the name of Martha White and she had her own radio show
You see, Martha had a brand of flour, for biscuits, cakes and pies
She had Shirley Temple golden curly hair and southern, baby blue eyes
And on Saturday nights with my guitar, I'd sit and play along
I knew every word and every note to that Martha White hour theme song
Well my folks took a vacation down to Nashville, Tennessee
Bought me a Goo Goo Cluster and a front row seat to the Grand Ol' Opry
And there before my childish eyes was that high and lonesome sound
But nowhere on that Opry stage was Martha to be found
Well I finally found my Martha out in the Opry stars' parking lot
She was cooling off them up and coming boys
You see they were Billboard hot and they were drinking something out of a brown paper bag
I knew I'd lost my Martha the only love I'd ever had
Oh, they're all better looking than the ones who went before
Same old hat, same old voice
Can they give us nothing more?
They're all smiling for the cameras, walking softly, talking loud
Martha, she still makes those biscuits greasy, fluffy and proud
You got your French croissant and all that Italian pastry-chef voodoo
You just pop one of them suckers in your mouth, slivate and chew
But what you won't find on the shelves of the finer kitchens of the world
Is the face of our self-promoting, self-perpetuating, self-rising flour girl
You only get it in the southland
That's where demographics best
It's the brand that Mom and Daddy bought | They won't give the girl a rest
And it's the same as it ever was from fifty years ago
She ain't mortal like you and me
Martha White will never grow old
They're all better looking than the ones who went before
Same old hat, same old voice
Can they give us nothing more?
They're all smiling for the cameras, walking softly, talking loud
Martha, she still makes those biscuits greasy, fluffy and proud
For the finest biscuits ever was get Martha White self-rising flour
The one all purpose flour
Martha White self-rising flour with the hot rize plus
I'm southern born and corn bred
My folks are just the same
I got my southern heritage
I got my papaw's name
I fell in love with a little girl when I was six years old
She had the name of Martha White and she had her own radio show
You see, Martha had a brand of flour, for biscuits, cakes and pies
She had Shirley Temple golden curly hair and southern, baby blue eyes
And on Saturday nights with my guitar, I'd sit and play along
I knew every word and every note to that Martha White hour theme song
Well my folks took a vacation down to Nashville, Tennessee
Bought me a Goo Goo Cluster and a front row seat to the Grand Ol' Opry
And there before my childish eyes was that high and lonesome sound
But nowhere on that Opry stage was Martha to be found
Well I finally found my Martha out in the Opry stars' parking lot
She was cooling off them up and coming boys
You see they were Billboard hot and they were drinking something out of a brown paper bag
I knew I'd lost my Martha the only love I'd ever had
Oh, they're all better looking than the ones who went before
Same old hat, same old voice
Can they give us nothing more?
They're all smiling for the cameras, walking softly, talking loud
Martha, she still makes those biscuits greasy, fluffy and proud
You got your French croissant and all that Italian pastry-chef voodoo
You just pop one of them suckers in your mouth, slivate and chew
But what you won't find on the shelves of the finer kitchens of the world
Is the face of our self-promoting, self-perpetuating, self-rising flour girl
You only get it in the southland
That's where demographics best
It's the brand that Mom and Daddy bought | They won't give the girl a rest
And it's the same as it ever was from fifty years ago
She ain't mortal like you and me
Martha White will never grow old
They're all better looking than the ones who went before
Same old hat, same old voice
Can they give us nothing more?
They're all smiling for the cameras, walking softly, talking loud
Martha, she still makes those biscuits greasy, fluffy and proud
For the finest biscuits ever was get Martha White self-rising flour
The one all purpose flour
Martha White self-rising flour with the hot rize plus
Credits
Writer(s): Darrell Scott
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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