Aqura

He’s shootin’ rum in his ostrich boots
With an accent that betrays his roots
And a pinch a’ Skoal between his cheek and gum…
I’m sippin’ Jack and Coke with my waders on,
My front pocket’s halfway torn
Since that damned old combine
nearly crushed my thumb…
So here we are…
In this cowboy bar…
Both of us…just watchin’ you…

He dresses country fly
But he’s a city guy…
You need the real deal
Next to you…
Someone to take you home,
Never let you cry alone…
Someone who’s country
To the bone…
To the bone, to the bone…

You stare at him, then me…
But how deep do those blue eyes see?
Can you feel me through the neon lights?
He’s over six feet tall,
All dressed up from the outlet mall,
I look like I just survived a fight…
You turn to me and say:
“Hey Cowboy,”
“Did ya have a rough day?”

He dresses country fly
But he’s a city guy
You need the real deal
Next to you…
Someone to take you home,
Never let you cry alone…
Someone who’s country
To the bone…

Outta all these cowboys
Who’d a’ guessed…
You’d pick me?
Must be meant to be…

He dresses country fly
But he’s a city guy…
You need the real deal
Next to you…
Someone to take you home,
Never let you cry alone…
Someone who’s country
To the bone…
I don’t over-analyze…
I can see it in your eyes…
And I’m not alone…
‘Cause we’re both country, country
To the bone…
We’re country to the bone…