by: Pam Tillis
She'll turn thirty-four this weekend,
She'll go out with her girlfriends.
They'l drink some margaritas, cut up, and carry on.
There'll probably be some guys, and there'll be come ons
She'll probably get hit on,
but she thinks all the good ones are gone.
She's got friends down at the office.
And she can't help but notice
That when the day is over,
How they all hurry home.
Everyday there's guys she works with,
And even some she flirts with,
But it seems like all the good ones are gone.
Her mama called this mornin'
Said I'm worried 'bout my baby.
I wish you had a family of your own.
She said, Mom, it's not that easy.
You make it sound so simple.
But you can't take the first man that comes along.
Once she had someone who loved her,
Back when she was younger,
Now she wonders if she held out a little too long.
Back tehre there were just so many,
Now there just aren't any.
It seems like all the good ones are gone.