Uh-huh Well, I heard you from across the bar Over clinkin' glasses like a work of art I'm a sucker for an accent from somewhere far Can ya blame me? I'm a California girl with a Southern heart And I don't know your first or your last name, baby If you're going home to a hometown lady The way you grip the can I can tell you're just my type You like, you like Workin' with your hands till they're covered in grease Fixin' up your Bronco in the Tennessee heat Something dirty on my mind and you got dirt on your jeans Well I'm a little broken, baby Could you work on me? Could you work on me? Ah, yeah Well, my heart's been through the mud A couple assholes before you kinda fuck me up What's the worst that can happen from a little fun? I'm a real smart girl who likes getting a little dumb I don't need to know your first and last name, baby If you're going home to a hometown lady Longhorn on your buckle, I can tell you're just my type You like, you like Workin' with your hands till they're covered in grease Fixin' up your Bronco in the Tennessee heat Something dirty on my mind and you got dirt on your jeans Well, I'm a little broken, baby Could you work on— A body needing something to make it feel brand new? I'm a couple shots deep and a couple screws loose Something dirty on my mind and you got dirt on your jeans Well, I'm a lil' broken, baby Could you work on me? Could you work on me? Mhm Could you work on me? No, no I'm a little broken, baby Could you work on me?
