Independent Heartbreaking Woman

Walking into the room with her spurs tapping
on the wood planked floor with cautious steps
echoing as she makes her way across the room,
with her dusty jeans form fitting to her small figure
showing off her belt buckle that gleams with pride at
her slim waist with her red and black plaid shirt swaying
by her side as her black tank top showing off her alluring body.

Sitting at a table in the corner of the room with her
back to the walls giving her a clear view of the room,
the bartender makes his way over to her table for
her order, she orders three shots of vodka and he hurries
away with a frighten look as she removes her cowgirl hat,
slapping it against her leg to get the dust off that gathered
there earlier today; breaking horses is always hard work.

One cowboy sitting at the bar with his well-worn chaps
still on, he's the first to make a fruitless attempt to woo her,
she sends him on his way with a swift movement of her hand,
the second man didn't stand a chance; he had a wondering hand, she broke his nose with one well-placed hit and the third
lost his chance the moment he said she needed a man and the
last to try his luck was a gambling man who didn't have a dollar to his name and lost at his own game.

This young lady is an independent woman who'll be the first to
drop any stupid man, she makes her own choices and breaks her own horses. She doesn't need any male companion,
she knows how to dust off her own jeans, she's a hell of heartbreaker; she doesn't need man one, two, three or four; so move along, boys, she's a truck driving independent hellon who'd rather wrestle steers than give you a chance.