Darrell Scott - The Ballad of Martha White lyrics
[Darrell Scott - The Ballad of Martha White lyrics]
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 biscuit's, 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 i did
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
My Martha to be found martha
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
Them biscuit's greasy, fluffy and proud
You got your French croissant and you
Got all that Italian pastry-chef voodoo
You just pop one of them
Suckers in your mouth, and salivate 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 biscuit's greasy, fluffy and proud
For the finest biscuit's ever was
Get Martha White self-rising flour
The one all purpose flour
Martha White self-rising flour
With the hot rize plus
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 biscuit's, 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 i did
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
My Martha to be found martha
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
Them biscuit's greasy, fluffy and proud
You got your French croissant and you
Got all that Italian pastry-chef voodoo
You just pop one of them
Suckers in your mouth, and salivate 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 biscuit's greasy, fluffy and proud
For the finest biscuit's ever was
Get Martha White self-rising flour
The one all purpose flour
Martha White self-rising flour
With the hot rize plus