Fine As Wine

She’s sweeter than the grapes growin' out in California
Softer than the fuzz on the sweetest Georgia peach
Warms you goin' down like a twenty-two year old brandy
When she loves me Lord she’s fine fine as wine
She loves her rodeo man turns him every way but loose
Washes out all his Levi’s and shines his cowboy boots
Watches him each Saturday bitin' the dust again
She takes him home puts him to bed and rubs him with linament
She’s sweeter than the grapes…
Laying in the back seed with sugar at the wheel
Broken bones from my last ride is all my head can feel
And sugar sure gets tired Lord of all I’ve put her through
But I’ll never find another gal who’s sweeter or who’s true
She’s sweeter than the grapes…
She’s sweeter than the grapes…