My old fashioned gal don’t like the bustle of the city
And the flushin’ pots and cyber spots and no space to get away from the racket
She knows a place, way out in old Appalachia
Where the chicory blooms to a chickadees tune and she plucks the mint and buttercups

CHORUS
My old fashioned gal
Is a real kind of pal
She don’t care if I’m poor
Wants my love, doesn’t need anymore
Than to have me around
When the sun’s going down
I do what I shall
For my old fashioned gal

V2
She likes to write her letters on a piece of pretty paper
And put ‘em in an envelope with a stamp and mail it at the post office
She digs for ramps in her West Virginy woods
Takes em home to her little shack
Spends the evening just a picklin’ and grinnin’

CHORUS

SOLO Verse

V3
She picks violet flowers while walking through the grassy meadows
Makes violet jam, in little cans
Gives em away to her friends and family
I’d like to stay in her lovely little mountain home
And with her hand in mine forget the time as we gaze at the clouds and the rhododendrons

CHORUS

TAG; I do what I shall for me sweet young pretty old fashioned gal