Women are represented in music as nothing more than empty-headed, bikini-wearing man vessels who exist only to dance the night away and serve beer. Wait so who wouldn’t want to be a woman in a [country] song? Now I wish I had some heels on my two bare feet and I don’t care if I am cold in these painted on cut off jeans. I love the way this bikini top chafes, who would want to wear it all day. I see ya over there on your tailgate whistlin in. Saying hey girl, all your good for, is looking fine for my friends on the weekend, nothing more.
It doesn’t matter what plans I got I can break them. I don’t mind telling all the girls I can’t meet em.’ If you wanna call me, call me. You don’t have to worry about me. You can wake me up in the dead of the night; wreck my plans, that’s alright. This is a drop everything kind of thing. Swing on by I’ll pour you a drink. The door’s unlocked, I’ll leave on the lights. Baby you can crash my party anytime.
Whatya say you pick me up after work, I’ll slide on over then we slip out to the outskirts of town to a spot nobody knows. With a blanket and a little something to knock off the edge, we park the truck and take off running.
I know I don’t have to get by on my looks, but I got my shades on, top back rollin up with the music jacked, and I am not about to look back. I am on fire cause dancing got me higher than anything else I know. I feel lucky enough to climb up in your truck keep my mouth shut and ride along, like a girl in country song.