COUNTRY
Plowing these fields in the hot summer sun
Over by the gate, lordy, here she comes
With a basket full of chicken
and a big cold jug of sweet tea
I make a little room and she climbs on up
I open up the throttle and stir a little dust
Look at her face, she ain't a foolin' me
Over by the gate, lordy, here she comes
With a basket full of chicken
and a big cold jug of sweet tea
I make a little room and she climbs on up
I open up the throttle and stir a little dust
Look at her face, she ain't a foolin' me