Rita Shine

Sweet it began with my sweet Rita
Sweet as the apples after frost
I never knew how much I'd need her
Never would predict how much she'd cost
Spent all my days down in the city
While she spent hers up in these hills
I thought her safe as she was pretty
Since she'd been raised up by her stills
Cookin' her shine
Cookin' her sin smooth Rita shine

She must have played them back all morning
Those last cruel words she'd heard me say
Between my teeth is where I'd stuck them
Between these pines is where they'd stay
She never opened up her thump valve
Something she'd done one thousand times
Since we'd been fighting all the night 'fore
She was not in her proper mind
Cookin' her shine
Cookin' her sin smooth Rita shine

Eleven crows out on the clothes line
Portend a tragedy to come
If they had lips or means of talkin'
I'd hold them down one by one
And make them pray
And make them pray my will be done



Credits
Writer(s): Mitch Butler
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link