Now, listen while I tell you bout a place I know
Down in Tennessee where the tall come grows
Hidden from the world in a bunch of piner
Wherer the moon´s little bashfull and it seldom shines
Civilized people live there alright
But they all go native on a Saturday Night
Their music is a fiddle and a cracked guitar
They get their kicks from a old fruit jar
Their do the boogie to an old square dance
The woods are full of couples lookin´ for romance
Somebody takes his brogue and knocks out the light
Yes, they all go native on a Saturday Night
When they really get together there´s a lot a fun
They all know the other fellah packs a gun
Ev´rybody does his best to act just right
´Cause there´s gonna be a funeral if you start a fight
They struggle and they shuffle till broad daylight
Yes, they all go native on Saturday Night
Well, now you´re heard my story ´bout a place I know
Down in Tennessee where the tall corn grows
Hidden from the world in a lunch of pines
Where the moon´s a little basful and it seldom shines
Civilized people live there alright
But they all go native ona Saturday Night