Flinty Kind of Woman - Dar Williams

It’s a small town life and I like it

'Cause the bad don’t get in your way

There’s an angry god, they’re 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

When your roots go back to old Salem

And you’ve got a local chapter of the Dar

And now I don’t go tooting on my lobsters

'Cause your pride doesn’t go with your plaid

But it’s a victory won and it couldn’t be done

By the hippy-dippy flaky-shaky fun-in-the-sun

Braless wonders, ay-yi-yipee-yipee-yi-yi-ay

Going east of Mississippi got a flinty kind of woman

And you know your place and you don’t touch my children

If the young man wants to see the sun go down

If the young man wants to see the sun go down