Letra
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Intro:
I slipped on her shoe; she was a perfect size seven.
I said, "There s no smoking in the store, ma am."
She crossed her legs and then
We made some small talk; that s where it should have stopped.
She slipped me her number; I put it in my pocket.
My hand slipped up her skirt; everything slipped my mind
In that little roadhouse
On Highway 29.
It was a small town bank; it was a mess.
Well, I had a gun. You know the rest.
Money on the floorboards, shirt was covered in blood
And she was cryin ; her and me we headed south
On Highway 29.