D                                              A
Hummm we all heard her hollering, for a country mile,
          D                              G
Cheatin' sure shows a complete lack of style,
           D                                                 A
Well she, took out three parking meters, and a pedestrian's purse,
     C                                             G           D
The day she quit the Baptist choir and threw that Ford into reverse.

[Verse 1]
 D
Lock up your husbands, lock up your sons,
 D
Lock up your whiskey cabinets, and girls lock up your guns,
 D
Lock up the beauty shop, there's no tellin' if they've heard the news,
         D  N.C.           D  N.C.                 D  N.C.                   D
Call the boys downtown and Neiman Marcus, tell 'em lock up them high heeled shoes,

[Chorus]
     Bm           G              D
When God fearin' women get the blues,
            G                                         A
There ain't no slap dabb a tellin' what they're gonna do,   Run around yellin',
D                G            A                 D
I got a Mustang, it'll do 80, you don't have to be my baby,
D                    G               A                                                    D
I’ve stirred my last batch of gravy, you don't have to be my . . . . . . . . . .  Bay hay bee.

[Verse 2]
 D
Call all the Deacons, call the Ladies aid,
 D
Call all the altos, sopranos, tenors, call every bass,
 D
Well, call all the Pentecostals, and bring that anointing oil too,
     D   N.C.                     D   N.C.                       D   N.C.          D
Well, call the Preacher, he's the only could reach her and there ain't no time to lose.

[Chorus]
     Bm           G              D
When God fearin' women get the blues,
            G                                         A
There ain't no slap dabb a tellin' what they're gonna do,   Run around yellin',
D                G            A                 D
I got a Mustang, it'll do 80, you don't have to be my baby,
D                    G               A                                                    D
I’ve stirred my last batch of gravy, you don't have to be my . . . . . . . . . .  Bay hay bee.

[Interlude]
D    G    A    A    D    G    A    A

[Bridge]
Bm  N.C.                             Bm  N.C.
     She's on all our prayer lists,      She's on all our hearts,
G   N.C.                          A  N.C.
     As for the Easter Cantata,      We don't know who'll sing her part.
D           D            D           D     
                                        'Let's go girl'.

[Chorus]
     Bm           G              D
When God fearin' women get the blues,
            G                                         A
There ain't no slap dabb a tellin' what they're gonna do,   Run around yellin',
D                G            A                 D
I got a Mustang, it'll do 80, you don't have to be my baby,
D                    G               A                                                    D
I’ve stirred my last batch of gravy, you don't have to be my . . . . . . . . . .  Bay hay bee.