I held the wheel, one prairie afternoon.
Signs flew by, saying we'd be there soon.
You read out loud from a Douglas Adams' book.
Your voice cracked and that's all it took.
You only loved me in that dress, you sure loved me in that dress.
You only loved me in that dress, you sure loved me in that dress.
We stopped the car, a few miles from Brandon.
Your breath on my neck. My teeth on your chin.
I laid my head on some old magazine.
You smiled and said: "Is it as cozy as it seems?"
You only loved me in that dress, you sure loved me in that dress.
You only loved me in that dress, you sure loved me in that dress.
We stared at the sky from that giant field.
My heart was racing like you wouldn't believe.
You kissed my lips, got into the driver's seat.
I closed the door, I had to admit defeat.
You only loved me in that dress, you sure loved me in that dress.
You only loved me in that dress, you sure loved me in that dress.
You sure loved me in that dress
I sure loved you in that dress, I sure loved you in that dress.