This 3500 Chevy rust book is falling onto
the strip.
My eyes gonna need gels and Vizine after pulling a graveyard shift.
I got a heel
on the gas,
been hauling since playing for the Husker State.
I'm running on film, swearing
this run might be old gal's last slate.
Well,
the colonel just called,
said the next song
might go all the way to the top.
Dang,
how he loves to dangle the carat when I'm busting
my tail in the slop.
But I roll up these puffy sleeves and I put on these fake eyelashes.
Might look like the dream,
but being corn queen,
hell,
it ain't all crowns and sashes.
I've been fighting my way
to the cherry red nails,
biting them down to the quick to keep the damn thing on the rails.
Still praying my dues,
I hope it all pays off.
Well,
it's a heavy crown,
but it don't get me down,
because I'm sitting pretty high on
a hog.
Mama made my clothes and rocked me in
a crib in a baby blue single white.
Daddy worked nights for the corn
plant till he struck out his own dime.
The only thing I've known is going for broke.
So even if the whole thing fails,
well,
I'd rather never make it in my own lane than ride in on coattails.
I've been fighting my way to the cherry red nails,
biting them down to the quick to keep the damn thing on the rails.
I'm getting burned now,
I'm burning up this road.
If my only legacy is the songs that I sing,
I'll be sitting pretty high on a hog.
High, high, high on a hog.
Well,
I've been to palaces in South Dakota,
I bowed and I kissed the rain.
I dined with the Derry Princess of Minnesota,
Maine Radio King.
I've come pretty far,
they call me a star,
the boys still rule that throne.
I got my name in the lights shining in the night.
Glitter's ain't really gold.