Lyrics:

You've talking about your woman,
I wish to God, man, that you could see mine
You're talking about your woman
I wish to God that you could see mine
Every time the little girl start to loving
She bring eyesight to the blind

Lord, her daddy must been a millionaire,
'Cause I can tell by the way she walk
Her daddy must been a millionaire,
Because I can tell by the way she walk
Every time she start to loving
The deaf and dumb begin to talk

I remember one Friday morning,
We was lying down across the bed
Man in the next room a-dying
Stopped dying and lift up his head, and said
'Lord, ain't she pretty
And the whole state know she fine'

Every time she start to loving
She bring eyesight to the blind
(Spoken: All right and all right, now
Lay it on me, lay it on me, lay it on me
Oh lordy, what a woman, what a woman)
Yes, I declare, she's pretty
And the whole state knows she's fine
Man, I declare she's pretty,
God knows, I declare she's fine

Every time she starts to loving,
Whoo, she brings eyesight to the blind
(I've got to get out of here, now, let's go, let's go, let's go now)