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