It's a small town life and I like it
'Cause the bad don't get in your way
There's an angry God gonna strike it
Yeah, that's what we pay him for, that's why we pray
Well I guess the angry God he was a-fishing
When Molly called me up with the news
Within the space of a week
Yeah, a pervert or a sex freak
Let the kids take a peek
That's more than a little cheek
No pun intended
Ay-yi-yipee-yipee-yi-yi-ay
Going east of Mississippi got a flinty kind of woman
And you don't act smart and you don't touch my children
If the young man wants to see the sun go down
Well there was no time fooling with the trifles
So there was no use in telling the men
They would just go running for their rifles
And then once you got him couldn't get him again
So Peg got a bolt of fishing tackle
And Marge got her gardening clips
And Sally LaBiche put her hound on a leash
And the timer on the quiche, she's kind of nouveau riche
But we like her
Ay-yi-yipee-yipee-yi-yi-ay
Going east of Mississippi got a flinty kind of woman
And you don't act fresh and you don't touch my children
If the young man wants to see the sun go down
It was the kids who spotted him a running
As we drove through the harbor fog
And that's when we got our engines gunning
'Cause we knew he was headed for the cranberry bog
We got our hip-high rubber boots strapped on
And Molly got the big flashlights out
And by the "Welcome to New England" sign
Got him with the fishing line
In the dark smell of brine
Betty said "This one is mine."
She is ruthless
Ay-yi-yipee-yipee-yi-yi-ay
Going east of Mississippi got a flinty kind of woman
And you just say no and you don't touch my children
If the young man wants to see the sun go down
Well we didn't have to drag him and a-jail him
'Cause you don't have to take it so far
