This belly button dangle Will probably be just one of those things I won't be showing off too often at 65 This butterfly tattoo Might be something I
on the farm Come on everybody gotta move your body to the bomshel stomp...(Bomshel stomp) Kick up your boots and get back to your roots, do the bomshel stomp...(Bomshel
Little girl alone on the playground Tired of gettin' teased and gettin' pushed around Wishin' she was invisible To them She ran home cryin' \"Why do
The day I came to Hollywood, I got off the bus, just me an' my guitar. My hair was all jacked-up for Jesus, It got real quiet when I walked in that bar
The sun came up this morning: I opened up my window just to hear the birds sing It feels so good to be alive: It's been so long since I felt this
This barely burdened ankle Will probably just be one of those things I won't be showing off too often at 65 This butterfly tattoo Might be something
the bomshel stomp, bomshel stomp Kick up your boots and get back to your roots Do the bomshel stomp, bomshel stomp Come on everybody, gotta move your body To the bomshel
I tend to laugh just a little too loud The song of mine usually comes out of mouth I've never been one to blend with the crowd But I'm okay with that
It's the smell of your skin When you just come in From in the yard It's the taste of your lips When you kiss me You know you've got my heart This dandelion
Step into the spotlight Of this traveling show Went across the room Those big blue eyes look in my soul I was singing fatal love How was I to know That
One person refused to sit on the back of the bus She changed the right for all of us Oh, that's the power of one Her diary found a light in the dark
Angry, I could be Could curse you and hate you, that would be easy 'Cause I'm broken and holdin' These shattered pieces believing That all that's left
One song on the edge of my lips One back pocket where my fingers fit One sun in my blue sky One name that my sharpie writes Seems like I get so single
Ain't gonna find me stuck in a kitchen Slavin' in my apron, fryin' up bacon I ain't your mama and I ain't your maid If you think I am then you're mistaken
Those pictures that I saved of you Are lyin on the side of 202 Well I don?t want to see them anymore And that locket that you gave to me Is hangin of
Little girl alone on the playground Tired of gettin' teased and gettin' pushed around Wishin' she was invisible to them She ran home cryin' why do they
