Amanda Ruth

Amanda, Amanda Ruth

Amanda, Amanda Ruth

We read the paper and we pick the show,

I'd meet her there but my watch was slow

She came early and I came late

We never met

It was a hell of a date

Amanda, Amanda Ruth

Amanda, Amanda Ruth

The way we met, she was a friend of a friend,

They needed money and I had it to lend

She had five; she wanted ten.

I gave her all my money

So I got none to spend

Amanda, Amanda Ruth

Amanda, Amanda Ruth

Amanda, Amanda Ruth

Amanda, Amanda Ruth

Amanda, Amanda Ruth

She burns her biscuits and her gravy is strange,

Can't fry a chicken in a microwave range.

Her salt's tasty, her sugar's sweet

No she can't cook

But she's got something to eat

Amanda, Amanda Ruth

Amanda, Amanda Ruth

Amanda, Amanda Ruth

Amanda, Amanda Ruth

Amanda, Amanda Ruth