My baby lives on p****er Hill,
I'm a b***** mess by the time I reach her;
Tattered & torn, shredded & shorn,
Wish I'd been born a humble preacher!
Oh, the climb, oh, the terrible climb,
I wish I could hover to the arms of my lover!
Oh, the climb, the terrible climb,
I'd be with her still on old p****er Hill.
Every time she calls I'm powerless to resist her;
She insists I come, that I climb out of bed,
Heaving & h****, thoughtful & thorny,
Sometimes I think I'd be better off dead!
Oh, the climb, oh, the terrible climb,
I wish I could hover to the arms of my lover!
I'd be with her still, man, on p****er Hill.
The p****ers were planted by my sweetheart's father;
He's a sonofabitch, and he's someone to kill!
My blood is a fountain; I gush on this mountain;
My baby's a prisoner on cold p****er Hill.
Every time she calls I'm powerless to resist her.
She insists that I come, that I climb out of bed,
Heaving & h****, thoughtful & thorny,
Sometimes I think I'd be better off dead!
Oh, the climb, oh, the terrible climb,
I wish I could hover.
Oh, the climb, oh, the terrible climb,
I'd be with her still on old p****er Hill.
But when I caress her
And when I undress her
She patches my scratches
We're a match in our thatches
Life is beautiful on top of p****er Hill
Life is sweet on old p****er Hill.
I'm a b***** mess by the time I reach her;
Tattered & torn, shredded & shorn,
Wish I'd been born a humble preacher!
Oh, the climb, oh, the terrible climb,
I wish I could hover to the arms of my lover!
Oh, the climb, the terrible climb,
I'd be with her still on old p****er Hill.
Every time she calls I'm powerless to resist her;
She insists I come, that I climb out of bed,
Heaving & h****, thoughtful & thorny,
Sometimes I think I'd be better off dead!
Oh, the climb, oh, the terrible climb,
I wish I could hover to the arms of my lover!
I'd be with her still, man, on p****er Hill.
The p****ers were planted by my sweetheart's father;
He's a sonofabitch, and he's someone to kill!
My blood is a fountain; I gush on this mountain;
My baby's a prisoner on cold p****er Hill.
Every time she calls I'm powerless to resist her.
She insists that I come, that I climb out of bed,
Heaving & h****, thoughtful & thorny,
Sometimes I think I'd be better off dead!
Oh, the climb, oh, the terrible climb,
I wish I could hover.
Oh, the climb, oh, the terrible climb,
I'd be with her still on old p****er Hill.
But when I caress her
And when I undress her
She patches my scratches
We're a match in our thatches
Life is beautiful on top of p****er Hill
Life is sweet on old p****er Hill.