I like a man in Wranglers and boots
They're not for me, those Armani suits;
In high polished wing tips or loafers with tassels,
With rings on their pinkies, who live in glass castles.

I love a man who's rugged and tall
Speaks words of love with a Southern drawl;
Swaggers beside me with a bowlegged stride,
Yet has no fear of his feminine side.

I like a man who's toughened with muscle
Sports on his belt a PRCA buckle;
A rodeo champ who rides the bareback bronc,
Then dances the two-step at the honky tonk.

He smells of old leather and fresh mown hay
Rides a fine pony, a Quarter Horse bay;
Together they work to bring home the herd,
And gets the job done with nary a word.

Whiskey kisses melt me to the core
When jingling spurs walk through the door;
The spark in his eyes ignites me like fire,
My body quivers with naked desire.

A wide brimmed Stetson sits low on his brow
As he plays his guitar and tells me how;
He'll love me forever, just wait and see,
If a cowboy's girl I'm willing to be.

His fingertips feather my sensitive skin
Sending me to heaven time and again;
As hot passion flows in pure poetry,
Yes! A cowboy's girl I'll always be.