| lyric | A western ranch is just a branch
of Nowhere Junction to me.
Gimme the city where livin’s pretty
and the gals war finery.
REf.:
East is east and west is west
and the wrong one I have chose.
Let’s go where you’ll keep on wearin’ those frills
and flowers and buttons and bows.
Rings and things and buttons and bows.
Don’t bury me in this prairis,
Take me where the cement grows.
Let’s move down to some big town
where they love a gal
by the cut o’ her clothes
and You’ll stand out in buttons and bows.
I’ll love you in buckskin or skirts
that you’ve homespun
But I’ll love ya’ longer,
stronger where yer friends don’t tote a gun,
My bones denounce tha buckboard bounce
and the Cactus hurts my toes,
Let’s vamoose where gals keep usin’ those silks
and satins and linen that shows,
you’re all mine in buttons and bows.
Gimme eastern trimmin’ where women are women
in high silkk hose
and peek-a-boo clothes and French perfume
that trocks the room
and you’re mine in buttons and bows. |