You’re Killin’ Me In Those Tight Fittin’ Jeans
It was 4th of July weekend and went down to watch the town fireworks,
Standing in line to buy a Pepsi and another hot dog with all the works.
When she walked by wearing a cowboy hat and some tight fittin’ jeans,
The cowboy hat was a Stetson, but the derrière was the finest I had ever seen.
Her hair was chestnut and her eyes were brown, but that booty was indescribable,
I stepped out of line to watch her go – noticing her apple bottom was unspeakable.
Below those tight fittin’ jeans were some snakeskin Tony Lama cowboy boots,
Stetson cowboy hat and the Tony Lama really set off her plainly seen attributes.
I was frozen in awe of that curved contour of the mysterious cowgirls buns,
Right then and there I knew that this cowgirl was the one to bring me – sons.
This cowgirl had stolen this cowboy’s heart that was the truth – with no dispute.
Her left hand bare and with no ring – thanked the Lord, she was not forbidden fruit.
Willing my body to move and move I did towards the cowgirl with the jiggle butt,
As I pulled within range of that cowgirl in tight fittin’ jeans with my cowboy strut.
Closed my eyes and prayed to the Ole’ Mighty Lord that she liked George Strait,
Once I got close, of course I stumbled in front of her with a hurried and clumsy gait.
The girl in those tight fittin’ jeans looked at me and her smile turned into a frown,
Realizing I had mustard and relish on my white t-shirt and must have looked like a clown.
My hair was a mess with grease and oil on my wranglers from a transmission leak,
Her stunning brown eyes showed some worry as I stood like an idiot not being able to speak.
Stuttering and stammering – hopping from one foot to the other – I also had to take a leak,
Now thoughts of having a passel of sons with the girl in tight fittin’ jeans now seemed – bleak.
Grand Pappy would have said in dire time such as this it was time to just Cowboy Up!
With cowboy gallant and western flair offered her a swig from my red plastic beer cup.
This girl with the fine patootie and tight fittin’ jeans slowly took a swig – looking very coy,
She tipped my hat and then she brought music to my ears, “You are my type of cowboy!”
Kurt James © 2018
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