Lyrics:

(Dean Dillon, Bob McDill)

She'll turn thiry-four this weekend
She'll go out with her girlfriends
They'll drink some margaritas, cut up and carry on
There'll be guys and there'll be come ons
She'll probably get hit on
But she thinks all the good ones are gone

She's got friends down at the office
And she can't help but notice
That when the day is over
How they all hurry home
Everyday there's guys she works with
And even some she flirts with
But it seems like the good ones are gone

Chorus:
Her mama called the mornin'
Said I'm worried 'bout my baby
I wish you had a family of your own
She said mom its not that easy
You make it sound so simple
But you can't take the first man that come along

Once she had someone who loved her
Back when she was younger
Now she wonders if she held out
A little too long
Back then there were so many
Now there just aren't any
It seems like all the good ones are gone

CHORUS

She'll turn thiry-four this weekend
She'll go out with her girlfriends
They'll drink some margaritas, cut up and carry on