The hoods are up on Pine Street, rear ends lifted too The great-grandsons of General Robert E. Lee are making love with a little help from STP Their women on the porches comparing alibis
Greasy eggs and bacon, bumper stickers aimed to start a fight, full gun racks, Confederate caps, if you want some 'shine well, you can always find some more, but what I remember most is the colour of Suzy's door
And Suzy says she's up there cutting carrots still And Suzy says she's missing me so I'm missing Oregon Hill
A river to the south to wash away all sins A college to the east of us to learn where sin begins A graveyard to the west of it all which I may soon be lying in
'Cause to the north there is a prison which I've come to call my home, but some Monday morning no country song will sing me home again
And Suzy says she's up there cutting carrots still And Suzy says she's missing me so I'm missing Oregon Hill
Sunday morning, eight A.M., sirens fill the air Sounds like someone made the river Sounds like someone being born again Me, I'm just lying here in Suzy's bed
Baptists celebrating with praises to the Lord, rednecks doing it with gin Me and Suzy, we're celebrating the joy of sleeping in because tomorrow I'll be home again
But Suzy says she'll wait there cutting carrots by the window sill And Suzy says, 'Always think of me when you think of Oregon Hill'
Compositor: Michael Edward Timmins ECAD: Obra #18636569