Lyrics:

Little Amsterdam in a southern town
Hominy get it on the plate girl
Momma keep your head down
Momma it wasn't my bullet

Don't take me back to the range, back to the range
I'm just coming out of the cell in my brain
Don't take me back to the range, back to the range
'Cause girl you got to know these days which side your on

Momma got shit, she loved a brown man
Then she built a bridge in the Sheriff's bed
She'd do anything to save her man
You see all her olives they are cool pressed
And her best friend is a sun dress
But Momma, it wasn't my bullet no

Don't take me back to the range, back to the range
I'm just coming out of the cell in my brain
Don't take me back to the range, back to the range
'Cause girl you got to know these days

All alone got a girl in the city
Hey, got a room and a place for two
Got a goat and a fawn
I said boy you are my Fifth Avenue

Round and around and around I go
Round and around this time for keeps
Round and around and around I go
Round and around this time for keeps

Father only you can save my soul
And playing that organ must count for something
For something
Girl you got to know these days

Little Amsterdam shut down today
They buried her with a butter bean bouquet
And the Sheriff now can't ride away
Like he said into the sunset
And I won't say that he shouldn't have paid
But Momma, it wasn't my bullet