| Song | Flinty Kind Of Woman |
| Artist | Dar Williams |
| Album | The Honesty Room |
| 作词 : 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 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 | |
| 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 |
| zuò cí : 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 gonna strike it | |
| Yeah, that' s what we pay him for, that' s why we pray | |
| Well I guess the angry God he was afishing | |
| 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 | |
| Ayyiyipeeyipeeyiyiay | |
| 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 | |
| Ayyiyipeeyipeeyiyiay | |
| 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 hiphigh 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 | |
| Ayyiyipeeyipeeyiyiay | |
| 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 ajail 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 | |
| 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 hippydippy flakyshaky funinthesun | |
| Braless wonders | |
| Ayyiyipeeyipeeyiyiay | |
| 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 |