I be awerkin' at fixin' dinner, br and my man, he be awerkin' in the fields, br and well, I just startin' inta dreamin' br 'bout me a-dancin' in Paris. br br I be wearin' sparkly shoes with high, skinny br heels, and one o' them slinky gowns. I'm a-drinkin' br that bubbly stuff outin' a one-legged glass. br Lotsa good-lookin' men be astin' me ta dance. br br Then my man comes home, clumpin' in muddy br boots, his shirt and pants dirty and dusty. br He be a mess! Ceptin' his eyes-they be warm br 'n brown like new-plowed fields, and his voice br be like a river a-flowin', so deep and smooth. br 'Dinner ready yet, sugar bun? ' br br His hand touches my hair right gentle- br like the breeze of a summer night a-mussin' br the leaves o' the willer tree. 'Long about then, br my heart feels like velvet cushins be a-pressin' br agin' it. Well, I startin' inta thinkin'...