Ike & Tina Turner - Nutbush city limits - 2:55 version lyrics

A church house, gin house, a school house, outhouse On highway number nineteen, the people keep the city clean They call it Nutbush, oh Nutbush They call it Nutbush city limits Twenty-five was the speed limit, motorcycle not allowed in it You go to store on Fridays, you go to church on Sundays They call it Nutbush, little old town, oh Nutbush They call it Nutbush city limits You go to the fields on weekdays and have a picnic on Labor day You go to town on Saturdays but go to church every Sunday They call it Nutbush, oh Nutbush They call it Nutbush city limits No whiskey for sale, if you get caught, no bail Salt pork and mola**es is all you get in jail They call it Nutbush, oh Nutbush Yeah, they call it Nutbush, [Incomprehensible], Nutbush city limits A little old town in Tennessee That's called a quiet little community A one-horse town, you have to watch what you're putting down In old Nutbush, they call it Nutbush