It's hot on the tractor
the sun's beating down,
plowing my fields,
on the outskirts of town.
City girl pulls up
her lips are syrupy sweet,
brings me a jug,
say here have a drink.
I take a big ol' chug,
and I spit it right out,
she looks at me,
with a huge pout.
I looked at her,
and she looked at me,
I said,
You can put your sugar on my lips,
but keep it out of my tea.
But you're a plowboy,
isn't sweet what you drink,
I said that's what country music,
has taught you to think.
She walks on over,
presses her lips to mine,
I melt like candy,
man, that feels fine.
She looks up and says to me,
I guess you're not what you seem,
No, I'm much much better,
I say with a wink.
I looked at her,
and she looked at me,
I said,
You can put your sugar on my lips,
but keep it out of my tea.