Miss America of Mine
Written by Jonathan Henderson
Monday February 10, 2014 @ 2:08 AM
Humble roots bestow her with cherry pie
The sweetest thing I know she will carry.
I stare into her big brown eyes, and she'll
Walk along that line in her heels and tiara.
She'll never have to prove to me her song,
For her voice echoes from one end and fro.
I see the halo shadowing her head of light
For she'll always be Miss America of mine.
Singing at the church of the Christ-like few,
She's the fairest belle as none other could do.
This Tennessee Southern belle has me now
As I sing along with hummingbirds her song.
She's good for you and me, see? Resonating
That song belting from that Southern voice
As I praise Him as she migrated the Natchez
As the soul of gold with a dallop of molasses.
Oui, mon chere! Comment nous vous aimons!
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