Little Amsterdam

Music and Lyrics by Tori Amos

Little Amsterdam 
in a southern town 
hominy get it on the plate girl 
Momma keep your head down
Momma it wasn't my bullet 

don't take me back to the Range 
I'm just comin out of the cell in my brain 
girl you got to know there days 
which side your own 

Momma got shit 
she loved a brown man 
then she built a bridge in the Sheriff's bed 
she'd do anything to save her man 
you see her olives are cold pressed 
and her best friend is a sun dress 
but Momma 
it wasn't my bullet 

round and a round and a round I go 
round and a round this time for keeps 
Father only you can save my soul 
and playing that organ must count for something 
girl you got to know these days 
which side you're on 
Little Amsterdam 
shut down today 
they buried her with a 
butter bean bouquet 
and the Sheriff now can't ride away 
like he said into the sunset 
and I won't say 
he shouldna paid 
but Momma 
it wasn't my bullet.