At the dance on an Oklahoma evening
She knows you’re there. She can feel your sweat, hear your breathing. She feels dry and cool on the outside, pretty as any girl at the dance, but she’s all hot and bothered inside. Go on, look at her. She’s not going anywhere. There’s got to be a reason. You stand a chance. But don’t go waiting, because there’s a fella across the room who’s working up what he’s gonna say, and when he’s got it worked through, he’ll be on the move.