All the powder and paint
|
That hides her sweet face
|
Isn't her as she really should be.
|
She's distant and cold
|
But under it all,
|
She's the same girl that used to love me.
|
|
All the booze-drinking men
|
She calls her friends
|
Aren't the friends she used to bring home.
|
She's not what she's been called
|
And under it all,
|
She's the same girl that I've always known.
|
|
She may dance too close and too long,
|
And do some things that seem wrong,
|
Or seem hard and bad.
|
And that's what's so sad
|
'Cause she's soft down under it all.
|
|
All the things that she says
|
And the way she may dress
|
Doesn't mean she's really gone bad.
|
She's not really at fault
|
And under it all,
|
She's really quite homesick and sad.
|
She's not really at fault
|
And under it all,
|
She's really quite homesick and sad.
|
|
-----------------
|
Under It All
|
| The Statler Brothers |
