She loves her rodeo man, turns him every way but loose
Washes out all his Levis, shines his cowboy boots,
Watches him each Saturday bitin' the dust again,

Takes him home, puts him to bed and rubs in the linament.

She's sweeter than the grapes growin' out in California,

Softer than the fuzz on the sweetest Georgia peach,
Warms you goin' down like a twenty two year old brandy
When she loves me, Lord, she's fine, fine as wine.


Layin' in the backseat with sugar at the wheel,
Broken bones from my last ride is all my head can feel.

Sugar, sure gets tired, Lord, of all I put her through,
But I'll never find another gal who's sweeter and is true.


She's sweeter than the grapes growin' out in California,
Softer than the fuzz on the sweetest Georgia peach,
Warms you goin' down like a twenty two year old brandy

When she loves me, Lord, she's fine, fine as wine.

She's sweeter than the grapes growin' out in California,

Softer than the fuzz on the sweetest Georgia peach,
Warms you goin' down like a twenty two year old brandy
When she loves me, Lord, she's fine, fine as wine.


She's sweeter than the grapes growin' out in California,
Softer than the fuzz on the sweetest Georgia peach,

Warms you goin' down like a twenty two year old brandy
[Fade out]