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Lordy Lordy Lyrics


Oh Lordy, Lordy
Well, your head hangs below the ground
Oh Lordy, Lordy
Well, I think thats where youre foundAnd so they tell me that you ain't my friend
I'm a loss to yourself, Ill assure you again
When you cry me some real tears, Ill be on the run
You come near me now, girl, Ill go get me a gunI've never been to prison, I don't know why
I stared death down in its chambers, baby, eye to eye
If prison is a cell then its raging in my blood
This is a song from the heart ain't nothing else

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True to their name, north carolina's Southern Culture On The Skids offer an affectionate parody of local white-trash trailer-park culture, matching their skewed outlook with a wild, careening brand of rock & roll. SCOTS' music is a quintessentially Southern-fried amalgam of rockabilly, boogie, country, blues, swamp pop, and chitlin circuit R&B, plus a liberal dose of california surf guitar, a hint of punk attitude, and the occasional mariachi horns.

Read more about Southern Culture On The Skids on Last.fm.


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Southern Culture On The Skids