First Last Name

He's a sunup to sun downer Come home late with flowers Pocket change on the counter A pressed shirt and tie He's one hell of a backseat driver Pull over if you're tired He's not much of a crier Till you're halfway out the drive-ive-ive He's the son of the salesman Short glass, old fashioned "How's your car been running, baby?" "Call your momma when you get home safely" Sawdust and stain My heart, my John Wayne My first last name From a long line of tradition We were guitars in the kitchen You're either singing or doin' dishes You wash, I'll dry We were truck stop Coca-Cola's Vinyl on Victrola Tire swing, magnolia Taught me how to fly-y-y He's the son of the salesman Short glass, old fashioned "How's your car been running baby?" "Call your momma when you get home safely" My hall of fame, he's never missed a game My first last name Yeah, he set the bar real high But I met a real good guy Still not much of a crier Till we're halfway down the aisle-isle-isle He's the son of the salesman Short glass, old fashioned "How are things going lately?" "Stop on by, bring the baby" People they say, I'm more like him everyday He can give me away, but no one can take My first last name