Reckless Tammy

I don't mind the smack
Of her catty-minded prose
But the way she's drivin'
Girl, that's got to go
She's rollin' through the stop signs
Like she think she's something big
You'll think you've seen the Holy Ghost of Earnhardt in a wig

She's a Reckless Tammy
Poured into her jeans
Fondling her Cricket
In a beat-up SUV
Whoa, Tammy
Jellies to the floor
Watch her topping 105
On Highway 104

I must admit she's fetching
When she smokes those cigarettes
Holding forth with raspy wit
Just like Suzanne Pleshette
But speak not of her mama
Or her third ex-hubby Trey
Lest you reveal the drama fuel'd by pills and Chardonnay

She's a Reckless Tammy
Kickin' up some dust
Rhinestones on her visors
While her chassis start to rust
Whoa, Tammy
Speeding through the lights
Don't give her the finger
Unless you want a fight

I don't mind the stench
Of her iridescent yack
But the way she's drivin'
Girl, please dial it back
Let's make the world a safer place
For ev'ry Jilted Jane
Don't have to end your bender, but you'd better pick a lane

She's a Reckless Tammy
Fighting middle age
Sings along with Seger
But she'll never turn the page
Whoa, Tammy
A bottle on the floor
Crashed into the bushes
Beside Highway 104