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Miss Judy, she was moody Owned a sweaty farm in old Alabama I was just eighteen, crude and mean And all I needed was to get my own way, get my own way Miss Judy, she could have me Any hour of the working day She'd send me in the corn field, mid-afternoon Said "Son, it's all part of your job" Miss Judy had a peroxide poodle That I would kick if I was given the chance Madam wasn't amused by the kindness I used I was whipped in the barn until dawn, it hurt me Last summer we was restless We're gonna make a stand and burn down your farm But it was all in the head 'cause out in the yard Miss Judy had the National Guard We was beat before we started Miss Judy, she was moody But she always didn't get her own way We'll stage a fight, get it right Kick her when she's down