Kuschty Rye

Oh, where I come from
There ain't nobody
Nobody quite like you
Who blessed my soul, is cold on Sunday
And always evades the truth

Whose lingo comes from God knows where
And he surely knows more than I
Who also knows how mocked I am
When you call me your kuschty rye

And I say hey, honey
I hold you way up too high for me
Whoa, come on baby
I put you way up too high for me

She learned me life is sweet
And God is good
And he always will provide
She taught me all I never knew
And she taught me more besides

So I say hey, come on honey
I hold you way up too high for me
Whoa, now come on baby
I put you way up too high for me

Whose lingo comes from God knows where
And he surely knows more than I
Who also knows how mocked I am
When you call me your kuschty rye

So I say hey, hey honey
I hold you way up too high for me
Whoa, now come on baby
I put you way up too high for me