Paroles de Rita Ballou

She could dance and slow you 'bout, shuffle to some cowboy hustle. How she made those trophy buckles shine, shine, shine. Wild-eyed in Mexican silver, tricking dumb old cousin Willard into thinking that he got her this time. Hill country, honky-tonkin' Rita Ballou, every beer joint in town has played a fool for you. Back sliding, barrel riding Rita Ballou, ain't a cowboy in Texas would not ride a bull for you. She's a rawhide roping velvet mixture, walking, talking Texas texture, high-timing, barroom fixture kind of a girl. She's a queen of the cowboys, look at old Willard grinning now, boys, you'd have thought there's less fools in this world. Hill country, honky-tonkin' Rita Ballou, every beer joint in town has played a fool for you. Back sliding, barrel riding Rita Ballou, ain't a cowboy in Texas would not ride a bull for you. Good luck Willard, and here's to ya, and here's to Rita, I hope she'll do ya right all night. But I wish I was a fool in your shoes. Hill country, honky-tonkin' Rita Ballou, every beer joint in town has played a fool for you. Back sliding, barrel riding Rita Ballou, ain't a cowboy in Texas would not ride a bull for you. Lord, I wish I was in Texas, I would ride a bull for you.