(Dean Dillon, Bob McDill)



She'll turn thiry-four this weekend

She'll go out with her girlfriends

They'll drink some margaritas, cut up and carry on

There'll be guys and there'll be come ons

She'll probably get hit on

But she thinks all the good ones are gone



She's got friends down at the office

And she can't help but notice

That when the day is over

How they all hurry home

Everyday there's guys she works with

And even some she flirts with

But it seems like the good ones are gone



Chorus:

Her mama called the mornin'

Said I'm worried 'bout my baby

I wish you had a family of your own

She said mom its not that easy

You make it sound so simple

But you can't take the first man that come along



Once she had someone who loved her

Back when she was younger

Now she wonders if she held out

A little too long

Back then there were so many

Now there just aren't any

It seems like all the good ones are gone



CHORUS



She'll turn thiry-four this weekend

She'll go out with her girlfriends

They'll drink some margaritas, cut up and carry on