Got No Bread, No Milk, No Money, But We Sure Got a Lot of Love

Got no bread, no milk, no money
But we sure got a lot of love;
My little gal she calls me honey
And she comes from Heaven above
Oh, she comes from the green hill-country
Where the lovin’ lasts all night—
As far back in that country
As you can stick a butcher-knife
Yeah, she is quite a woman
And you know I don’t like to brag
But she can squeeze my dinner
Out of an old dishrag;
And when it comes to lovin’
Let me tell you she’s all right—
No she ain’t much for talkin’
When it comes to Saturday night
She likes good, clean wholesome music
That doesn’t make her feel uptight
So she listens to the radio
Sittin’ on the porch at night
She knows I work like a dog on weekdays
But when Saturday rolls around
I put them wheels on the highway
And I take my little baby to town . .
She spends all of my money
Just a foolin’ around—
And I’m broke again come Sunday
Monday, I’m run down
Got no bread, no milk, no money
But we sure got a lot of love—
My little gal, she calls me honey
And she comes from Heaven above