Tongue Slap Your Brains Out

Knowing you were laundry-folding just outside the bedroom door, I slept near it Knowing you would carry half the hapless buzzing of my dilated spirit I know you never dreamed I'd become a damn Yankee I need you to believe that I'm still your same baby No feeling like finding a peach cobbler sunning belly-up on the granite The kind that'll make your tongue slap all your brains out I know you never dreamed I'd become a damn Yankee I need you to believe that I'm still your same baby I know you never dreamed I'd become a damn Yankee If you could only see, it's still the Georgia winds that move me