Lyrics

Amanda, Amanda Ruth Amanda, Amanda Ruth We read the paper and we pick the show I'd meet her there but my watch was slow She came early and I came late We never met It was a hell of a date Amanda, Amanda Ruth Amanda, Amanda Ruth The way we met, she was a friend of a friend They needed money and I had it to lend She had five; she wanted ten I gave her all my money So I got none to spend Amanda, Amanda Ruth Amanda, Amanda Ruth Amanda, Amanda Ruth Amanda, Amanda Ruth Amanda, Amanda Ruth She burns her biscuits and her gravy is strange Can't fry a chicken in a microwave range Her salt's tasty, her sugar's sweet No she can't cook But she's got something to eat Amanda, Amanda Ruth Amanda, Amanda Ruth Amanda, Amanda Ruth Amanda, Amanda Ruth Amanda, Amanda Ruth