That postcard's from Paris, no not Texas, the real one in France
I met her last summer, when she asked me to dance
Well she came to America looking, for a wild west, hero
And why she picked me, I'll never know
She said "Dance with me, cowboy", I said you're outta luck
I'm not even a native, no hat, boots or truck
Well I've never two-stepped or been to a rodeo
I don't live in the state and I don't talk slow
You don't want me, try the real dancers
I'm busy right now searching for answers
She said, "I've seen all the movies, and I want to believe
That there's a strong man that's
Good, the kind that never, ever leaves
He doesn't put on a show, never raises his voice
And he worships me, because its his choice"
She said "I need a man like that, and if I seen one alone"
"I'll put him in my suitcase, and I'll take him home"
"Well, it could be you cowboy, I could change your life
Have you ever been to Paris, had a model for a wife?"
You don't want me, try the real dancers
I'm busy right now searching for answers
Well I had a good wife, but I lost her last year
And I miss her so much, and that's why I stay here
This was her home, this tiny little town
And I'll be beside her when they lay me down
You don't want me, try the real dancers
I'm busy right now, searching for answers
Well, that postcard's from Paris
No, not Texas, the real one in France
And she hasn't given up, yeah she thinks there's still a chance
But I'm not going nowhere,
Cause I'm gonna be the strong man that's good
The kind that never, ever... leaves