Cya

Machine

Cya


I could tell she was a hot rod when she walked in all alone 
Made a pit stop at the front bar, in a puff of smoke was gone 
I followed her smell of perfume, cause she was too far out of sight 
Tried to catch up but the girl was running one hell of a race tonight 

She's a real low maintenance, country music beat driven, honky-tonk dancin' machine 
All it takes to keep her tuned up is boots and Wrangler jeans 
She scoots about fifty times around the floor on one shot of Jim Beam 
She's a real low maintenance, country music beat driven, honky-tonk dancin' machine 

There's a guy on every corner, watching her make the bend 
Hoping he'll be the next one to take her for a spin 
She's not the kind that can be hot wired with money or romance 
Got a body for pleasure, but all she wants to do is dance 

She's a real low maintenance, country music beat driven, honky-tonk dancin' machine 
All it takes to keep her tuned up is boots and Wrangler jeans 
She scoots about fifty times around the floor on one shot of Jim Beam 
She's a real low maintenance, country music beat driven, honky-tonk dancin' machine 

She scoots about fifty times around the floor on one shot of Jim Beam 
She's a real low maintenance, country music beat driven, honky-tonk dancin' machine 
She's a real low maintenance, country music beat driven, honky-tonk dancin' machine