Conestoga Wagon

I once made love in a covered wagon
with a girl whose tits were far from sagging
they pointed right up towards the stars
drove cowboys crazy in mountain bars,

We drank some beers, shot some pool
that mountain air, crisp and cool
danced real close to the cowboy swing
admired her ass and her wedding ring,

The bar closed tight, the beer tap dry
we went outside to inspect the sky
a zillion stars, dark of the moon
both singing some cowboy tune,

In a dry sage field was a Conestoga
wagon there, cowboy pagoda
in back was a mattress of dubious age
those zillion stars and the scent of sage,

Intoxicated with renewed force
we climbed inside, well, of course
off came her Wranglers and my Levi's
her panties slid down her thighs,

Both still wearing our snap front shirts
I filled her up with steady squirts
of my love, of my lust
oblivious to the wagon dust,

That wagon rocked, that wagon rolled
and my married cowgirl never told ...