"Amy Grant" as written by and Scott Mccaughey....
Amy, Amy Grant
Amy, Amy Grant
Amy, Amy Grant

She comes home from church
She takes off her pants
That's what I like about Amy Grant
When she come home from church
She gotta take off her pants
That's what I like about Amy Grant
I'm talkin' 'bout Amy ... Amy ... Amy ... <> Amy Grant!

Now those song she writes
And, lordy, the way she sings
Too bad our friends don't care about such little things
She don't spare the child
She don't spoil the rod
She just gets rich 'cause she works for God
I'm talkin' 'bout Amy ... Amy ... Amy ... Amy Grant!

Now when she first met Jesus
Didn't know what to say
But he gave her a guitar
and he told her what to play
He said "Amy, don't you play a lotta jazz
Don't you play none of that hard rock
What the people wanna hear is pure unadulterated schlock
I'm talkin' to Amy ... Amy ... Amy ... <> Amy Grant!"

Amy, Amy Grant

Amy, Amy Grant
Amy, Amy Grant
Amy, Amy Grant

Alone in bed
Late at night
She fantasizes
about Barry White

Barry, Barry White
Barry, Barry White

I'm talkin 'bout Amy ... Amy ... Amy ... <> Amy Grant!


Lyrics submitted by JohnnyLurg

Amy Grant song meanings
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