Oh, so now you want her attention. What changed? Did you finally get a get a taste 
of her personality—sweet like honey, a little tart like lemonade. Is it her homegrown charm, as rich and warm as Mama’s fresh biscuits on Sunday?

Or do you just like how she looks under the spotlight. Brighter than the stars in a Texas desert night sky. Well, I’m sorry, cowboy. 
But have we met?

Was it you that left me under a neon bar sign? Your handkerchief tear-stained and clutched to my chest? The thing is—while you were out searching for the next big thing, ignoring my calls, and crushing my trailer park heart, I found my wings.

Now where I’m going, you can’t reach. Where open roads meet open skies. Fueled by a rebel spirit and the fire behind my eyes. Call me Yesterday’s Trash. But don’t call me baby. I’m nobody’s cowgirl. And my heart is a treasure that’s mine alone.

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