Boots, Trucks, and Us

Dust on the tailgate

Sun sinking slow

You’re laughing at my ball cap

Bare feet on my clothes

Little scar on your knee

From that creek-side rope

You say, “Boy, take me somewhere

That smells like smoke”

I like boots, you like trucks

We like gravel flying up

Little backroad, little worn-out luck

Radio low, you sliding up

All I need is your hand in mine

Bench seat, starry sky above

I like boots, you like trucks

Girl, that sounds like us

Stop at the station

Two sweet teas

You steal all my fries

Then kiss me greasy

Wind in your long hair

My old dog in back

You draw a heart and our names

In the rearview glass

I like boots, you like trucks

We like gravel flying up

Little backroad, little worn-out luck

Radio low, you sliding up

All I need is your hand in mine

Bench seat, starry sky above

I like boots, you like trucks

Girl, that sounds like us

One day this rusted ride

Might give up the ghost

But that grin in my side view

Is what I’ll miss most (oh yeah)

Baby, if the wheels fall off

We’ll still kick dust in the dark

Two old boots and a beating heart

I like boots, you like trucks

We like gravel flying up

Little backroad, little worn-out luck

Radio low, you sliding up

All I need is your hand in mine

Bench seat, starry sky above

I like boots, you like trucks

Girl, that sounds like us

Yeah, boots and trucks and us