Well it was Friday in the p.m. And just like every weekend I was ready to throw down Yeah I get a little tore up So I call my brows up to meet me out
Country Roads, old theatre marquee signs; Parkin' lots, and billboards flyin' by. Spanish mosques, little hick town squares; Wild roses on a river bank
She wants her nails painted black She wants the toy in the Cracker Jack She wants to ride the bull at the rodeo She wants to wear my shirt to bed She
