White Hot Country Mess (Live)

Been driving this old car around
From coast to coast through little towns
Pushing for a quarter million miles
I know where the gas is cheap
Truck stops where it’s safe to sleep
Yeah, I roll up to every show in style

I’m a white hot country mess
In cowgirl boots and a thrift store dress
Paying my dues out on the road
Just a Gibson and the songs I wrote
I’m a white hot country mess

You put men in charge of dressing rooms
There’s beer and whiskey, that’s assumed
But not a single mirror to be found
It’s just dirty bathrooms, dingy lights
Dealing with a drunk sound guy
Hey buddy, could you turn the reverb down

I’m a white hot country mess
In cowgirl boots and a thrift store dress
Paying my dues out on the road
Just a Gibson and the songs I wrote
I’m a white hot country mess

You can really make this life look grand
If you filter it on Instagram
Hashtag the Americana Dream
But the truth is we’re just hanging on
By a prayer and by a song
And a heavy drug addiction to caffeine

I’m a white hot country mess
In cowgirl boots and a thrift store dress
Paying my dues out on the road
Still booking every single show
I’m a white hot country mess

There’s nothing that I cannot do
With a double latte and dry shampoo
I’m a white hot country mess
I’m a white hot country mess