hard-workin Wrangler jeans

I’m not driving that pickup truck
Long time ago, I gave that up

Not gonna wear grandpa’s Stetson hat
It blew away, just like that

I’ll eat asparagus, not turnip greens
Not eating fried anything

Hear my “you guys” not that “ya’ll”
I’m answering the Yankee call

But you’ll never take the country boy out of me
Dress me up as much as you please —
Though Calvin Klein is hangin all over me
Inside I’m still wearing those
straight-leg, boot-cut
huggin-the-waist, tight-in-the-butt
hard-workin Wrangler jeans

No okra please, just brussel sprouts
I try not to spit the sushi out

The tassels on my shoes flip’n’flap
Won’t hear the thunk of any Ariat’s

Sugar, baby, darlin please
Not gonna hear no words like these

Hear my “you guys” not that “ya’ll”
I’m answering the Yankee call

But you’ll never take the country boy out of me
Dress me up as much as you please —
Though Calvin Klein is hangin all over me
Inside I’m still wearing those
straight-leg, boot-cut
huggin-the-waist, tight-in-the-butt
hard-workin Wrangler jeans

I’ll be listening to soft-rock-pop,
Won’t keep you dancing till you drop

But you’ll never take the country boy out of me
Dress me up as much as you please —
Though Calvin Klein is hangin all over me
Inside I’m still wearing those
straight-leg, boot-cut
huggin-the-waist, tight-in-the-butt
hard-workin Wrangler jeans

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License

One Reply to “hard-workin Wrangler jeans”

  1. I know how hard it is to not spit the sushi out! It’s nice to know, though, that some things never change—and we shouldn’t try!

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