This Is Counting Crows

Butter Miracle, The Complete Sweets!

Elevator Boots

If I Had a Million Dollars (I’d Still Be Poor)

Great heartwarming Story ,Great Emotional Feelings

That old Rugged Box

I was two beers deep at the county fair,
Saw somethin’ bouncin’ in the warm night air.
Booty shorts tight, Lord, I declare,
That thing was struttin’ like it just don’t care.
Ain’t talkin’ ‘bout no rodeo,
But somethin’ in them jeans stole the show…
“She got that backroad bounce—Lord, it just won’t quit,
Rockin’ side to side like a long-bed hitch.
Ain’t no secret, ain’t no doubt,
That tailgate swing got ‘em talkin’ about!
She got that backroad bounce, and it’s callin’ my name,
Like a sunset glow in a southern flame.”
Her Daisy Dukes fight, but they losin’ bad,
Them seams screamin’, “Girl, you need a plan!”
I tried not to stare, but I lost that bet,
When that thing double-clapped to the bass drum set.
Ain’t talkin’ ‘bout no rodeo,
But somethin’ in them jeans stole the show…
Booty on point like a backroad bend,
Every step she take make the neon spin.
Cowboy boots with a twerk so mean,
Got the whole bar yellin’ like a stampede scene!
Drop it low, let it roll, girl, do your thing,
Got that curve like a river through the sugarcane.
Ain’t no brakes, let it shake, let ‘em all go wild,
That backroad bounce got ‘em lost in style!
“She got that backroad bounce—Lord, it just won’t quit,
Rockin’ side to side like a long-bed hitch.
Ain’t no secret, ain’t no doubt,
That tailgate swing got ‘em talkin’ about!
She got that backroad bounce, and it’s callin’ my name,
Like a sunset glow in a southern flame.”
Well, the band struck up a Brooks & Dunn tune,
And that thing did a wiggle ‘cross the sawdust room.
Boys dropped beers, jaws hit the floor,
When she spun real quick and it clapped once more!
“She got that backroad bounce—Lord, it just won’t quit,
Like a wreckin’ ball swingin’ through the pit.
Ain’t no secret, ain’t no doubt,
That tailgate swing got ‘em talkin’ about!
She got that backroad bounce, and it’s callin’ my name,
Like a sunset glow in a southern flame.”
Now, I ain’t judgin’—no, not me,
But darlin’, them shorts ain’t got no more degrees!

Mrs. Potters Lullaby

countingcrows

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