(1st Verse) Cain't concentrate on the preacher preachin', My attention span done turned off. I want in on that angel singin', Up there in the choir loft. She's got her money, Her Mama's good looks, More laughs than a stack of comic books. A wild imagination, a college education, Add it all up, it's a deadly combination. She's a good bass fisher, a dynamite kisser, country as a turnip green. (Stop on first time) She's got her money, her Mama's good looks, And look who's lookin' at me. (2nd Verse) Her second cousin was my third grade teacher. I used to cut her Grandma's grass. Back then she was nothin' but knees and elbows. Golly did she grow up fast! (Chorus) (Lead) (3rd Verse) Lord if you've got any miracles handy, Maybe you can grab me one. Just let me walk down the isle and say I do, To that angel with the choir robe on. (Chorus) A (Stop) She's got her Daddy's money, her Mama's good looks, And look who's lookin' at me.
Top songs from Ricochet
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