Got no bread, no milk, no money But we sure got a lot of love; My little gal she calls me honey And she comes from Heaven above Oh, she comes from the green hill-country Where the lovin’ lasts all night— As far back in that country As you can stick a butcher-knife Yeah, she is quite a woman And you know I don’t like to brag But she can squeeze my dinner Out of an old dishrag; And when it comes to lovin’ Let me tell you she’s all right— No she ain’t much for talkin’ When it comes to Saturday night She likes good, clean wholesome music That doesn’t make her feel uptight So she listens to the radio Sittin’ on the porch at night She knows I work like a dog on weekdays But when Saturday rolls around I put them wheels on the highway And I take my little baby to town . . She spends all of my money Just a foolin’ around— And I’m broke again come Sunday Monday, I’m run down Got no bread, no milk, no money But we sure got a lot of love— My little gal, she calls me honey And she comes from Heaven above My little gal, she calls me honey And she comes from Heaven above编辑于2023/09/03更新