Cowboy boots, Wrangler jeans,
Beer for breakfast, steak and beans.
The big city always makes her feel so small.
Nine to six, five days a week.
Nothing expensive, mostly cheap,
But enough for a tit job and a pickup truck on lease (with option to buy).
All alone at the rodeo;
Two-step lessons are so, so far away for a fat cowgirl.
Her old boyfriend Bud used to kick her ass.
He's in jail now; she misses his sweet smile.
He was a great guy before he gave me a black eye.
She always cries to her favorite songs
About drinking and cheating and sleeping around,
Fighting and lying and being broke,
Dancing and Jesus and feeling down. I bet she's feeling down right about now.