She was a level-headed dancer on the road to alcohol
And I was just a soldier on my way to Montreal
Well, she pressed her chest against me

About the time the juke box broke
Yeah, she gave me a peck on the back of the neck
And these are the words she spoke


Blow up your TV, throw away your paper
Go to the country, build you a home

Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches
Try an' find Jesus on your own


Well, I sat there at the table and I acted real naive
For I knew that topless lady had something up her sleeve
Well, she danced around the bar room

And she did the hoochy-coo
Yeah, she sang her song all night long
Tellin' me what to do


Blow up your TV, throw away your paper
Go to the country, build you a home

Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches
Try an' find Jesus on your own


Well, I was young and hungry
And about to leave that place
When just as I was leavin'

Well she looked me in the face

I said, "You must know the answer"

She said, "No but I'll give it a try"
And to this very day we've been livin' our way
Here is the reason why


We blew up our TV, threw away our paper
Went to the country, built us a home

Had a lot of children, fed 'em on peaches
They all found Jesus on their own