South Carolina in the summertime
And there's holes in both her Sunday shoes
The heat off the asphalt quivers like the people
Dancing while she's singing the blues
Man in a suit nods his head to the music
With his arms folded cross his chest
Looking at her like she's a lottery ticket
Or a horse that's gonna win him the bet
Hey, you gotta know when to pick em
Before they're too grown to see
Green peaches, steal 'em right off the tree
He says listen up honey, I'll take care of the money
And he picks up the cheque for their steaks
In the back of his car he says I'll make you star,
Girl, don't gotta worry bout a thing
And she thinks of the years and the tears
Spent wishing for the day someone would say those words
And she softly cries, he puts his hand on on her thigh and says
Ain't no one like ya in this whole wide world
Hey, you gotta know when to pick em
Before they're too grown to see
Green peaches, steal 'em right off the tree
South Carolina in the summertime
And there's holes in both her Sunday shoes
She's walking with the baby when she's stopped by a lady
"Ain't you that girl had a hit or two?"
And she shakes her head and says,
"Sorry Ma'am, I'm afraid that girl sure isn't me
But I get it all the time"
Then the baby starts to cry and she lullabies him that melody
Oh, you gotta know when to pick em
Before they're too grown to see
Green peaches, steal 'em right off the tree
South Carolina in the summertime
South Carolina in the summertime
South Carolina in the summertime