Craig Morgan - In My Neighborhood
If you see a pick-up truck with a plastic 'coon dog
Mounted on the hood
If you pass trailer with a concrete donkey in the yard
An' tires up on the roof
An' if you see a woman in a moo-moo
Readin' Tarot cards an' palms down by the road
That's how you know; that's how you know
You're in my neighborhood
In my neighborhood
There's nothin' ordinary about the regular folk
In my neighborhood
We make our own wine outta berries we grow
A word to the wise: when they turn out the lights
It's a free-for-all, y'all, every Saturday night
But everybody treats everybody they way they should
In my neighborhood
When the wind is just right, you can tell they're makin' paper
At the mill on Champion Lane
When Mabel Johnson goes to fry 'em Rocky Mountain Oysters
You can smell 'em from a mile away
You might hear the church bells playin' "Sweet Home Alabama"
'Cause the preacher loves rock an' roll
That's how you know; that's how you know
You're in my neighborhood
In my neighborhood
There's nothin' ordinary about the regular folk
In my neighborhood
We make our own wine outta berries we grow
A word to the wise: when they turn out the lights
It's a free-for-all, y'all, every Saturday night
But everybody treats everybody they way they should
In my neighborhood
In my neighborhood
There's nothin' ordinary about the regular folk
In my neighborhood
We make our own wine outta berries we grow
A word to the wise: when they turn out the lights
It's a free-for-all, y'all, every Saturday night
But everybody treats everybody they way they should
In my neighborhood
In my neighborhood
Mounted on the hood
If you pass trailer with a concrete donkey in the yard
An' tires up on the roof
An' if you see a woman in a moo-moo
Readin' Tarot cards an' palms down by the road
That's how you know; that's how you know
You're in my neighborhood
In my neighborhood
There's nothin' ordinary about the regular folk
In my neighborhood
We make our own wine outta berries we grow
A word to the wise: when they turn out the lights
It's a free-for-all, y'all, every Saturday night
But everybody treats everybody they way they should
In my neighborhood
When the wind is just right, you can tell they're makin' paper
At the mill on Champion Lane
When Mabel Johnson goes to fry 'em Rocky Mountain Oysters
You can smell 'em from a mile away
You might hear the church bells playin' "Sweet Home Alabama"
'Cause the preacher loves rock an' roll
That's how you know; that's how you know
You're in my neighborhood
In my neighborhood
There's nothin' ordinary about the regular folk
In my neighborhood
We make our own wine outta berries we grow
A word to the wise: when they turn out the lights
It's a free-for-all, y'all, every Saturday night
But everybody treats everybody they way they should
In my neighborhood
In my neighborhood
There's nothin' ordinary about the regular folk
In my neighborhood
We make our own wine outta berries we grow
A word to the wise: when they turn out the lights
It's a free-for-all, y'all, every Saturday night
But everybody treats everybody they way they should
In my neighborhood
In my neighborhood
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