Dixon’s Girl Songtext
von Dessa

Oh, someone taught
Your walls to talk
But if they ask me, I ain't heard a thing

Back to the wall
Bat to the ball
Back to the drawing board
[X3]

Again

There was a snow storm in Jackson,
When you and I met,
At a club called Saint Sebastion's,
But the sign said something different.
I remember thinking that I didn't have a shot at Mississippi.
Television told us which roads they were closing.
"There goes the rap show."

Everybody knew you as the wife of a famous man.
Everybody who knew said, "There goes Dixon's girl again.
Even the walls all lean closer, when she plays the piano real slow."


Haven't met too many women in this business that I really like,
But you could hold a little liquor, you could hold a conversation
You could hold your own mic, and,
Even that night, I learned the truth about your man:
You've gotta be big to treat pretty girls bad.

And it's not much, but my money's on you
It's not much, but my money's on you
It's not much, but my money
Not much, but my money
Not much, but my money
My money's on you

Well I heard from the rest of the world, you're in trouble.
Bad news moves like fire that you fight on the phone.
And I'm too far away, my well-wishing can't touch you,
But I think of you still, more than you might suppose.

Everybody wanna see you with your hair down,
Wanna hear you hit the high note.
Wanna know if they can get you for a little less, girl.
I don't. I know,
How the stones can fly, had some hard goodbyes.
Call me up, day or night, free drinks and bad advice.


And it's not much, but my money's on you
It's not much, but my money's on you
It's not much, but my money
Not much, but my money
Not much, but my money
My money's on you

Back to the wall
Back to the bar
Back to the drawing board
[X3]

And it's not much, but my money's on you.