Going down to the bottom
Don't give me that worthless glance
Give me your mouth
Give me your bad, bad mouth
[Chorus]
Don't talk to me about my baby
Don't talk to me about my baby
She said she couldn't breathe
When them little fingers began to move
Teeth clenched in her lips in a spasm of horror
Them little fingers, wrinkled as prunes
[Chorus]
Going down to the bottom
He got on the nigh pole
You get in there in the middle Pete and do it for us
You clap three times and we go, go, go
[Chorus]
Don't talk that way