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Kate Reid
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My Baby's In the Beer Tent Again
It's a musician's life for me, don't you know
It's just me and my guitar on the road
And sometimes my baby takes off work to join me
It's hotel rooms and late night shows, dirty bars and festivals
And there's one thing you show know about my baby
She's so dedicated to me that it's crazy
She carries my guitar, she drives me near and far
She's always there for me, my baby's so damn good to me
And when we walk together through these festival gates
The grounds lay out before us, my adoring fans they are awaiting
There's vendors of handmade clothes, energy shakes and soap makers
Music for all ages and the excitement is contagious
So I turn to share my feelings with my baby
But suddenly, she is nowhere to be seen
It seems she has all but disappeared and my worst fear is realized
When I finally discover she is otherwise occupied
Chorus:
My baby's in the beer tent again
She appears to be befriending the cute volunteer bar tenders
She's boozing with the locals, she's schmoozing folks and smoking
My baby's in the beer tent again.
My baby, she's as loyal as they get
She's as solid as an S10 Chevy pick-up truck in red
And I know she'll never leave my side
It seems her eyes were made with me in mind
And for my baby, it's all about the music
And she loves nothing better than to dance a little two-step now and then
She digs bluegrass, folk and country and old-timey
And as for my tunes, well, she's a hundred percent behind me
But when we're at these festivals my baby starts to change
She starts frothing at the mouth, she's got her sights set somewhere else
Cuz when it comes to beer, I seem to disappear
She drops all my stuff and then she's off and running
Chorus:
My baby's in the beer tent again
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She's chatting up the ladies, she's arm wrestling all the men
She's chugging with the rednecks, she's spending my whole paycheck
My baby's in the beer tent again.
My baby's rather quiet and introverted
She doesn't tend to be much of a flirter
But when she gets a can of liquid courage in her hand
She turns into a instant, bona fide ladies' man
And she loves party with our people and wave that rainbow flag
She'll be singing “We are Family” with the old school fags and drag queens
She's guzzling with the gays, she's downing drinks with all the dykes
She won't ever lay and die, I know my baby will survive
Chorus:
My baby's in the beer tent again
She's even louder and she's prouder when her pride's a little pie-eyed
She's buying beers for all the queers, she's on a gender-bender
My baby's in the beer tent again.
She's dressed to kill her crocs, cut-offs and plaid shirt
My baby's a plate of fashion and she's looking hot for certain
And she swears up and down that she ain't the earth mama type
She firmly states that she ain't no granola dyke stereotype
But when my baby's starts swilling hops with the hippies
She's talking 1960's folk songs and rolling herbal ciggies
She's spouts off about compost, organic gardening and tofu
She's toking with her psychedelic sisters, she's even playing naked Twister
Chorus:
My baby's in the beer tent again
She's tripping with the hippies, her “peace, man” never ends
She gets all flower power when she gets a few drinks down her
My baby's in the beer tent again.
My baby's in the beer tent again
She's in all her splendor, she's a repeat offender
She's dancing on the table-tops, she shows no sign of stopping
My baby's in the beer tent again.
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