Beer truck girl repeat…

Lyrics

“Beer, Truck, Girl, Repeat” Verse 1 I turned on the radio Friday night, He was singin’ ‘bout a tailgate under neon light, A cold beer, a hot girl, a four-wheel drive, And somehow that’s the plot for the fiftieth time. A dirt road, a bonfire, some cut-off jeans, A tractor in the background of every scene, If country’s a buffet, he’s eatin’ one dish, Orderin’ the same thing every time on the list. Chorus Beer, truck, girl, repeat, Dust on the tires and mud on the seat, Crank it up loud, let the speakers compete, Beer, truck, girl, repeat. A moonlight kiss by a creek somewhere, A little bit of drawl and some highlighted hair, If inspiration’s a river, it’s runnin’ discreet, It’s beer, truck, girl, repeat. Verse 2 Merle wrote heartbreak, Cash sang pain, Haggard could tell you about sunshine and rain, But this song’s got a cooler and a fishing pole, And a six-pack somehow standing in for a soul. The verse is the chorus with the words rearranged, The truck gets washed but the story don’t change, Every album’s a sequel to the one before, Like somebody photocopied a convenience store. I swear if Haggard was here he’d just shake his head, And Jones would be embarrassed by half the lines he said, Those old boys chased truth through every barroom door, This one’s just sellin’ the same old checklist some more. Chorus Beer, truck, girl, repeat, Tailgate philosophy over a borrowed beat, A little “Hey Girl” and a stadium tweet, Beer, truck, girl, repeat. Bridge Now I ain’t mad if folks have fun, Lord knows country songs don’t all gotta be deep, son, But after the hundredth mention of an ice-cold can, I’m beginnin’ to suspect that’s the whole master plan. If Haggard and Jones could hear it today, They’d probably laugh, then quietly walk away, Wonderin’ how a genre built on heart and defeat Got traded for beer, truck, girl, repeat. Final Chorus Beer, truck, girl, repeat, The formula’s simple and the royalties sweet, If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, keep milkin’ the sheet, Beer, truck, girl, repeat. Yeah the beer gets cold, and the truck gets old, And the girl in the song never seems to speak, But the record keeps spinnin’, the crowd stays on its feet— Beer, truck, girl, repeat.