She Don't Tell Me To Lyrics
| Song | She Don't Tell Me To |
| Artist | Montgomery Gentry |
| Album | Something To Be Proud Of: Best Of 1999-2005 |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Written：Bob Di Piero/Rivers Rutherford/Tom Shapiro | |
| Every now an' then, on my home, | |
| I stop at a spot where the wild flowers grow, an' I pick a few, | |
| 'Cause she don't tell me to. | |
| I go out with my boys all right, | |
| But most of the time I call it a night before they do, | |
| 'Cause she don't tell me to. | |
| Sunday mornin', I'm in church, | |
| An' my butt an' my back an' necktie hurt, but I'm in the pew, | |
| She don't tell me to. | |
| Any other woman I know would have tried, | |
| To control me and it would be over. | |
| Plannin' on my goin' on my own way attitude. | |
| All of that stubborness melts away, | |
| When I wake with her head on my shoulder, | |
| An' I know I've got to love her, | |
| Until my life is through, | |
| 'Cause she don't tell me to. | |
| Well, I got demons and I've got pride, | |
| But when I'm wrong, I apologise like she's mine to lose, | |
| 'Cause she don't tell me to. | |
| Well, I got dreams in this heart of mine, | |
| But nothin' that I wouldn't lay aside if she asked me to. | |
| 'Cause she don't tell me to. | |
| An' she don't even know, | |
| That she keeps lookin' for the next right thing to do, | |
| 'Cause she don't tell me to. | |
| Yeah, yeah. | |
| Any other woman I know would have tried, | |
| To control me and it would be over. | |
| Plannin' on my goin' on my own way attitude. | |
| And all of that stubborness melts away, | |
| When I wake with her head on my shoulder, | |
| An' I know I've got to love her, | |
| Until my life is through, | |
| What else can I do? | |
| What else can I do? | |
| Whoa, I love her, | |
| 'Cause she don't tell me to. | |
| She don't tell me to. | |
| Every now an' then, on my home, | |
| I stop at a spot where the wild flowers grow, an' I pick a few, | |
| Yes I do. |
| Written: Bob Di Piero Rivers Rutherford Tom Shapiro | |
| Every now an' then, on my home, | |
| I stop at a spot where the wild flowers grow, an' I pick a few, | |
| ' Cause she don' t tell me to. | |
| I go out with my boys all right, | |
| But most of the time I call it a night before they do, | |
| ' Cause she don' t tell me to. | |
| Sunday mornin', I' m in church, | |
| An' my butt an' my back an' necktie hurt, but I' m in the pew, | |
| She don' t tell me to. | |
| Any other woman I know would have tried, | |
| To control me and it would be over. | |
| Plannin' on my goin' on my own way attitude. | |
| All of that stubborness melts away, | |
| When I wake with her head on my shoulder, | |
| An' I know I' ve got to love her, | |
| Until my life is through, | |
| ' Cause she don' t tell me to. | |
| Well, I got demons and I' ve got pride, | |
| But when I' m wrong, I apologise like she' s mine to lose, | |
| ' Cause she don' t tell me to. | |
| Well, I got dreams in this heart of mine, | |
| But nothin' that I wouldn' t lay aside if she asked me to. | |
| ' Cause she don' t tell me to. | |
| An' she don' t even know, | |
| That she keeps lookin' for the next right thing to do, | |
| ' Cause she don' t tell me to. | |
| Yeah, yeah. | |
| Any other woman I know would have tried, | |
| To control me and it would be over. | |
| Plannin' on my goin' on my own way attitude. | |
| And all of that stubborness melts away, | |
| When I wake with her head on my shoulder, | |
| An' I know I' ve got to love her, | |
| Until my life is through, | |
| What else can I do? | |
| What else can I do? | |
| Whoa, I love her, | |
| ' Cause she don' t tell me to. | |
| She don' t tell me to. | |
| Every now an' then, on my home, | |
| I stop at a spot where the wild flowers grow, an' I pick a few, | |
| Yes I do. |
| Written: Bob Di Piero Rivers Rutherford Tom Shapiro | |
| Every now an' then, on my home, | |
| I stop at a spot where the wild flowers grow, an' I pick a few, | |
| ' Cause she don' t tell me to. | |
| I go out with my boys all right, | |
| But most of the time I call it a night before they do, | |
| ' Cause she don' t tell me to. | |
| Sunday mornin', I' m in church, | |
| An' my butt an' my back an' necktie hurt, but I' m in the pew, | |
| She don' t tell me to. | |
| Any other woman I know would have tried, | |
| To control me and it would be over. | |
| Plannin' on my goin' on my own way attitude. | |
| All of that stubborness melts away, | |
| When I wake with her head on my shoulder, | |
| An' I know I' ve got to love her, | |
| Until my life is through, | |
| ' Cause she don' t tell me to. | |
| Well, I got demons and I' ve got pride, | |
| But when I' m wrong, I apologise like she' s mine to lose, | |
| ' Cause she don' t tell me to. | |
| Well, I got dreams in this heart of mine, | |
| But nothin' that I wouldn' t lay aside if she asked me to. | |
| ' Cause she don' t tell me to. | |
| An' she don' t even know, | |
| That she keeps lookin' for the next right thing to do, | |
| ' Cause she don' t tell me to. | |
| Yeah, yeah. | |
| Any other woman I know would have tried, | |
| To control me and it would be over. | |
| Plannin' on my goin' on my own way attitude. | |
| And all of that stubborness melts away, | |
| When I wake with her head on my shoulder, | |
| An' I know I' ve got to love her, | |
| Until my life is through, | |
| What else can I do? | |
| What else can I do? | |
| Whoa, I love her, | |
| ' Cause she don' t tell me to. | |
| She don' t tell me to. | |
| Every now an' then, on my home, | |
| I stop at a spot where the wild flowers grow, an' I pick a few, | |
| Yes I do. |
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