Plowing these fields in the hot summer sun
Over by the gate, lordy here she comes . . .

With a basket full of chicken and a big cold jug of sweet tea
I make a little room and she climbs on up
Open up a throttle and stir a little dust
Just look at her face; she ain't a fooling me.

She thinks my tractor's sexy
It really turns her on
She's always staring at me
While I'm chugging along.

She likes the way it's pulling while we're tilling up the land
She's even kind of crazy 'bout my