My Kind of Music

Oh, I met this girl, I swear was close to perfect

I could see the ring, the dress, and the whole nine yards

I had a country station on, and she reached and turned it

Said she couldn't stand the sound of a steel guitar

We hit the town to catch an early movie

And ol' Crisp Chris Dobson played the leading role

I said, "That's my man," she said, "Who's he?"

I jumped up and said, "Girl, we gotta go"

She don't like to play my kinda music

She's never heard a Walen Jennings song

And she's never been a fan of Willie Nelson

So there ain't no way in hell we'll get along

She told me she thinks country music's hokey

Said, "You can't dance to it and all the songs are sad

I cocked my eyebrow and said, "You must be jokin'

Ain't no excuse for havin' taste that bad"

Then I asked her if she'd heard of Alan Jackson

And she said, "Didn't he sing that song called "Where Were You?"

I said, "Ya, but girl, that man's a livin' legend"

And she said, "Really? I thought he was new"

Now she don't like to play my kinda music

She's never heard of David Allan Coe

But she can't get enough of Whitney Houston

And I'm thinkin', Lord, that's all I need to know

That ain't the way

So when the night was over, I walked her to her door

And I bid that girl an overdue farewell

And without a goodnight kiss, I jumped back in my truck

Turned on some Hank and cranked it loud as hell

Now she don't like to play my kinda music

She don't know "Sunday Morning Comin' Down"

She can't see what's so cool about "He Stopped Lovin' Her Today"

Or "Angel Flying Too Close To The Ground"

She told me that she sorta likes The Eagles

She couldn't name one hit by Johnny Cash

No, she don't like to play my kinda music

So I had to tell that girl to kiss my ass