As long as there's a small town and a Saturday night. Blue jean babies in the full moonlight, tip back your Dixie, howl at the stars. Every time you hear that sly guitar, and your baby's on the tailgate, and you're stealing those kisses to a little George Strait...that's how we're rocking, that's how we roll, as long as there's country on the radio.
If you have any suggestions for the blog feel free to send me a message. Thank you. Keep calm and cowgirl up!