That dress, yes that dress, it makes you
Look so hard to talk to
Her fucks were few and far between
So she moved to the country
Wanted a man with some ugly teeth
Why not me?
I’ll be a racehorse in my second life, retired
Here’s your pasture, we appreciate your tenure
Seems all I do is wait for some kind of savior
As I grow, hope to abandon that behavior
Scantily clad, so apropos
Got a cowboy hat and too long a rope
She’ll come home soon, I hope
I want a face I can understand
A girl that’ll treat me like the one man
She’d been searching for for a while