Old wooden front porch swing,
Little white lights hang by a string.
Daisies blowing in the breeze,
Beneath the weeping willow trees.
Picket fence around the yard
She swears she’ll never drop her guard.
Sipping sweet tea from a mason jar,
Staring up at shooting stars.

Making plans and chasing dreams
Living in her ripped up jeans.
10pm an engine noise,
Her momma knows it’s one of them boys.

Living by horoscopes and what fortune teller’s see,
She says things are the way they should be.
Learning as she goes along
She knows what’s right but still does wrong.

She attracts the boys who lead her on
Acting as their pretty pawn,
Holding her breath and playing along
Until they walk away.