Text: Brian Wilson. My Jeanine.

I carry the torch for her in the orchard
Apples were her last name
My Jeanine my Jeanine

Each tree would ignite with blossom of white
And apple her hair enflame
My Jeanine my Jeanine

Jeanine in jean and calico
A streak of mean don't let it show
So when she tells you let it go
Her yes may mean no, I love her so

We would meander now hand in hand
In our Appalachian clime
My Jeanine my Jeanine

We bring in the spring and toss from the swing
Along apple blossom time
My Jeanine my Jeanine

Remember when life was North Carolina
Two bits for Cokes and jokes at the diner
Time was a magazine, my Jeanine

My Jeanine, my Jeanine
My Jeanine, my Jeanine