Sometimes you can change the pictures and it changes the meaning of the song entirely. Look at this:
Jason Aldean My Kinda party:
I worked all week.
Cleaned up, clean cut, and clean shaved.
I got the cover off the ‘68. (1868 Lincoln was shot front page of the paper)
I fired it up, and let them horses sing. (freed the slaves)
A little pretty thing.
A little tan leg Georgia dream. (That black girl wants to convert(sorry if I offended anyone saying ethincity))
She’s a rockin’ them holey jeans. (She just got baptised)
Baby, what you got goin’ on Saturday? (Church?)
You know, words got it, there’s gonna be a party,
Out of town about half a mile.
Four wheel drives and big mud tires. (horse and buggy)
Muscadine wine (Cup of Christ? If they had bread to represent his flesh that would complete it)
Oh baby, you can find me.
In the back of a jacked up tailgate.
Sittin’ ‘round watchin’ all these pretty things. (church choir singing)
Get down in that Georgia clay (freeing the slaves)
And I’ll find peace.
At the bottom of a real tall cold drink. (church wine?)
Chillin’ with some Skynyrd and some old Hank. (Simpsons and King of the Hill?)
Let’s get this thing started.
It’s my kinda party.
Well if you wanna drink.
Go baby, just do your thing.
But give up your keys. (Cuz you just found your soulmate)
Hell why drive when you can stay with me? (horse and buggy)
And then after while we’ll sneak away from the bonfire.
Walk by the moonlight and down to the riverside.
Gotcha sippin’ on some moonshine. (It still represents if its wine in church)
Baby, if you’re in the mood and you can settle for a one night rodeo. (One life to live)
You could be my tan-legged Juliet,
I’ll be your Redneck Romeo.
Oh baby, you can find me.
In the back of a jacked up tailgate.
Sittin’ ‘round watchin’ all these pretty things.
Get down in that Georgia clay.
And I’ll find peace.
At the bottom of a real tall cold drink.
Chillin’ with some Skynyrd and some old Hank.
Let’s get this thing started.
It’s my kinda party.
Oh baby, you can find me.
In the back of a jacked up tailgate.
Sittin’ ‘round watchin’ all these pretty things.
Get down in that Georgia clay.
And I’ll find peace.
At the bottom of a real tall cold drink.
Chillin’ with some Skynyrd and some old Hank.
Let’s get this thing started.
It’s my kinda party.
Ha ha, y’all ready for this?
Y’all go head and turn it on up.
Ha!