Nutbush City Limits (’91) Songtext
von Tina Turner

A church house, gin house
A school house, outhouse
On highway number nineteen
The people keep the city clean

They call it Nutbush, oh, Nutbush
They call it Nutbush city limits

Twenty-five was the speed limit
Motorcycle not allowed in it
You go to store on Friday
You go to church on Sunday

They call it Nutbush, been a long time, oh, Nutbush
They call it Nutbush city limits


You go to the fields on weekdays
And have a picnic on labor day
You go to town on Saturday
And go to church every Sunday

They call it Nutbush, oh, Nutbush
They call it Nutbush city limits

No whiskey for sale
You can′t cop no bail
Salt pork and molasses
Is all you get in jail

They call it Nutbush, oh, Nutbush
They call it Nutbush city limits, Nutbush city limits

Little old town in Tennessee
That's called a quiet little old community
A one-horse town
You have to watch
What you′re puttin' down in old
Nutbush