She was cuter than a speckled pup just turned 21.  She had a lot of fun playing with my gun. Just before the sun come up she couldn't take no more. She came undone crying crawling for the door. And it's hard to be an outlaw who ain't wanted anymore. And the only friends that's left is them behind them swinging doors. And it's hard to keep your trying when your back is to the floor. And it's hard to be an outlaw who ain't wanted anymore. Record people nowdays get too far off the ground. Songs 'bout the backroads they never have been down. They go and call it country but that ain't the way it sounds. It's enough to make a renegade want to terrorize the town. And it's hard to be an outlaw who ain't wanted anymore. And the only friends that's left is them behind them swinging doors. And it's hard to keep your trying when your back is to the floor. And it's hard to be an outlaw who ain't wanted anymore. White lightning is the horse I ride pedal to the floor. He blows fire from his nostrils and runs like Man-O-War. Someday we both may wind up in some junkyard on the side. Until that day you bet your ass we're gonna win that ride. And it's hard to be an outlaw who ain't wanted anymore. And the only friends that's left is them behind them swinging doors. And it's hard to keep your trying when your back is to the floor. And it's hard to be an outlaw who ain't wanted anymore. And it's hard to be an outlaw who ain't wanted anymore.