| I lived with the decent folks
|
| In the hills of old Vermont
|
| Where what you do all day
|
| Depends on what you want
|
| And I took up with a woman there
|
| Though I was still a kid
|
| And I smile like the sun
|
| To think of the loving that we did
|
| She rose each morning and went to work
|
| And she kept me with her pay
|
| I was making love all night
|
| And playing guitar all day
|
| And I got apple cider and homemade bread
|
| To make a man say grace
|
| And clean linens on my bed
|
| And a warm feet fire place
|
| Yankee lady so good to me,
|
| Yankee lady just a memory
|
| Yankee lady so good to me,
|
| Your memory that’s enough for me An autumn walk on a country road
|
| And a million flaming trees
|
| I was feeling uneasy
|
| Cause there was winter in the breeze
|
| And she said, «Oh Jesse, look over there,
|
| The birds are southward bound
|
| Oh Jesse, I’m so afraid
|
| To lose the love that we’ve found.»
|
| Yankee lady so good to me,
|
| Yankee lady just a memory
|
| Yankee lady so good to me,
|
| Your memory that’s enough for me I don’t know what called to me But I know that I had to go
|
| I left that Vermont town
|
| With a lift to Mexico
|
| And now when I see myself
|
| As a stranger by my birth
|
| The Yankee lady’s memory
|
| Reminds me of my worth
|
| Yankee lady so good to me,
|
| Yankee lady just a memory
|
| Yankee lady so good to me,
|
| Your memory that’s enough for me |