There is no need for you to try
To woo me with your lazy eye.
You will not make it to the zone
That is between me and my microphone.

The chances are not one in ten
That you will hear me sing again.
I’m not a girl who lingers long;
Just let me sing my country song.

My lips are hot as rolling dice;
A beaker full of broken ice
Is not about to make my kisser blue;
My tongue will not get stuck on you.

The winds of want begin to whirl
When you look at a country girl,
But country girls have ample pride;
Your wants will not be satisfied.