Lyrics

I like your twisted point of view, Mike

I like your questioning eyebrows

You've made it pretty clear what you like

It's only fair to tell you now

That I leave early in the morning

And I won't be back 'til next year

I see that kiss-me pucker forming

But maybe you should plug it with a beer, 'cause

Papa was a rodeo, Mama was a rock and roll band

I could play guitar and rope a steer before I learned to stand

Home was anywhere with diesel gas, love was a trucker's hand

Never stuck around long enough for a one night stand

Before you kiss me, you should know

Papa was a rodeo

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