Fake Cowboy

Late late last night

I drank red wine and dressed up to go down to Honky Tonk Tuesday

Young country queens of the American Legion in nashville were prepping to play

Well my eyes scanned the bar for a rockstar a top-gun or someone who could play the part

In a sea of fake cowboys he took off his hat and I laughed as he asked me my name

Is this how these men play the game

A montage of monologues big talk and Smirnoff

I listened and sucked in my gut

He moved here from Memphis and won't pay his taxes I nodded and kept my mouth shut

The dancehall was lit up in red white and blue and the floor wore the carving of boots

And I felt like June Carter just swinging around in the arms of a man with tattoos

A stranger's a reckless pursuit

In half English, half Spanish he mentioned his bed was a stone throw or two down the block

And I looked at him looking at me like he knew me better than I knew myself

Wide awake I woke up rolled over and watched him take swigs from warm day old beer

He offered me coffee I said no I'm sorry how far is the Legion from here

Well I strapped on my shoes and I set out for home wet with sweat in the sweet southern sun

Catching my reflection in gas station windows I cackled and called up my mom

She asked me if I'm having fun