‘Til the Fuss Dies Down

You’re in hot water, and it’s gettin’ hotter
Shoulda thought about that before you messed with the daughter
Of a full-fledged, bona fide American aristocrat
You shoulda known he’d never let you get away with that; you better
Jump on the bus, get out of town
Stay out of sight until the fuss dies down

Well, he knows the judge and he knows the preacher
And he’s sittin’ on the board that hired the high school teacher
Got the county sheriff in the palm of his hand
So when you’re messin’ ‘round with him you know you’re
Messin’ with the man, you better
Jump on the bus, get out of town
Stay out of sight until the fuss dies down

Small town, small talk, everybody knows
Everybody’s business and the way the wind blows
You’d have to be a dummy not to know what’s comin’ down
Better get your stuff together, boy, and get on out of town

They say that all men were created equal
But it didn’t stay that way, there was bound to be a sequel
Now there’s rich men, poor men, beggermen and thieves
The bankers and the businessmen with aces up their sleeves, you better
Jump on the bus, get out of town
Stay out of sight until the fuss dies down

Words and music ©1998 by Robert Paul Shelter
All Rights Reserved

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