I was riding shotgun with my hair undone in the front seat of his car 
He's got a one-hand feel on the steering wheel 
The other on my heart 
I look around, turn the radio down 
He says baby is something wrong? 
I say nothing I was just thinking how we don't have a song 
And he says... 

 [bad word] ] 

Our song is the slamming screen door, 
Sneakin' out late, tapping on your window 
When we're on the phone and you talk real slow 
Cause it's late and your mama don't know 
Our song is the way you laugh 
The first date "man, I didn't kiss her, and I should have" 
And when I got home ... before I said amen 
Asking God if he could play it again 

I was walking up the front porch steps after everything that day 
Had gone all wrong and been trampled on 
And lost and thrown away 
Got to the hallway, well on my way to my lovin' bed 
I almost didn't notice all the roses 
And the note that said... 

[Repeat [bad word]  

I've heard every album, listened to the radio 
Waited for something [bad word] along 
That was as good as our song... 

Cause our song is the slamming screen door 
Sneaking out late, tapping on his window 
When we're on the phone and he talks real slow 
Cause it's late and his mama don't know 
Our song is the way he laughs 
The first date "man, I didn't kiss him, and I should have" 
And when I got home, before I said amen 
Asking God if he could play it again 

I was riding shotgun with my hair undone 
In the front seat of his car 
I grabbed a pen and an old napkin 
And I... wrote down our song