She was a level-headed dancer on the road to alcohol   And I was just a soldier on my way to Montreal   Well, she pressed her chest against me   About the time the juke box broke   Yeah, she gave me a peck on the back of the neck   And these are the words she spoke      Blow up your TV, throw away your paper   Go to the country, build you a home   Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches   Try an' find Jesus on your own      Well, I sat there at the table and I acted real naive   For I knew that topless lady had something up her sleeve   Well, she danced around the bar room   And she did the hoochy-coo   Yeah, she sang her song all night long   Tellin' me what to do      Blow up your TV, throw away your paper   Go to the country, build you a home   Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches   Try an' find Jesus on your own      Well, I was young and hungry   And about to leave that place   When just as I was leavin'   Well she looked me in the face      I said, "You must know the answer"   She said, "No but I'll give it a try"   And to this very day we've been livin' our way   Here is the reason why      We blew up our TV, threw away our paper   Went to the country, built us a home   Had a lot of children, fed 'em on peaches   They all found Jesus on their own