Story Behind the Song
Michael MacDonald
Dec. 8, 1998
Lyrics
Listen young fella wit ya mouth gone brown
from smokin da tobacca wit a young face outworn
this here's a warnin' from a man's been round
and met a few ladies with a bad streak through they bones
stay well away from that love ye call it
ain't nothin' but bawlin' to the fall out
she's a rush to ya now and she calms ye storms
but don't let me catch ya near here in a day or four
'cause ye will have followed her da grubby death's door
just because she takes ya soul and makes it a clown
don't follow dat girl down
she's hotta than wata through steam engine's gutta
but dat don't make her bread
dat don't make her butta
she be lawless as da kickin' dead
she be boilin ya up and makin' ya proud
she unshrivel ye dick and make ye drown
in what we all round here called da bottomless pound
'cause it pound in ye head and it pound in ye gut
and it pound in ye loins til ye nearly throw it up
it pound in ye heart like a marchin' band's mutt
it pound 'fore ye eyes when ye in ya cups
big drummer angel wit a bosom like a hutch
Listen young fella cool out in da spring, cool out in da fresh wata,
cool out ye wings--dry out yer sap, shake out ya thing,
just stay on away from dat looka Sara Brown
Don't follow, don't follow, hide in da willows, blind yaself wit an
iron,
don't follow, don't follow, don't follow dat girl down
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