Acrylic Hands
Southern country with frantic 8th-note acoustic guitar strums, fast banjo rolls, fiddle runs, pedal steel squeals, and a driving upright bass line. Snappy kick-snare backbeat, handclaps, porch stomp percussion, close-harmony vocals, and twangy Telecaster fills; mixed bright, raw, and tightly packed.
Acrylic Hands
Southern country with frantic 8th-note acoustic guitar strums, fast banjo rolls, fiddle runs, pedal steel squeals, and a driving upright bass line. Snappy kick-snare backbeat, handclaps, porch stomp percussion, close-harmony vocals, and twangy Telecaster fills; mixed bright, raw, and tightly packed.
Lyrics
Verse 1
This one’s for the blondes with the cracked-up roots
Cheap gloss queens in them snake skin boots
Girls holdin’ families with acrylic hands
Smilin’ through hell like “baby, I got plans”
Yeah we cried in kitchens, danced in bars
Put gas in dreams and duct tape on hearts
Men like to think they wrote our story
But baby we built our own damn glory
Pre-Chorus
We ain’t the side piece cryin’ in the rain
Ain’t beggin’ no cowboy to say our name
We the women still standin’ when the smoke all clears
Pourin’ whiskey over wasted years
Chorus
This a song for all the Dollys out there
Big heart, big hair, middle finger in the air
Jolenes ain’t never had shit on us
Couldn’t steal a man if the man ain’t dust
We built these lives from scratch and scars
Sang through breakdowns inside parked cars
Sweet like honey but tough as rust
Yeah the Jolenes ain’t never had shit on us
Verse 2
We know about betrayal, baby, trust me
Mascara runnin’ like Tennessee whiskey
Still showed up lookin’ fine as sin
Tellin’ the mirror “girl, do it again”
Some girls chase what another girl owns
Some girls become queens sittin’ on thrones
And we learned real quick in this cold ass town
A crown sits better when you buy it yourself now
Pre-Chorus
We ain’t scared of pretty little wandering eyes
A real one sees through cheap disguise
If he leaves easy, let him go
Ain’t our job to raise a grown man’s soul
Chorus
This a song for all the Dollys out there
Soft voice, hard life, nails done, still aware
Jolenes ain’t never had shit on us
We survived storms they couldn’t discuss
Got stretch marks, receipts, and grace
Still got fire painted on our face
Turned our pain into platinum dust
Yeah the Jolenes ain’t never had shit on us
Bridge
So spark that joint and pass that flame
Toast every woman they tried to shame
To the mothers, the fighters, the girls unseen
To every woman who became her own damn dream
Final Chorus
This a song for all the Dollys out there
Lipstick war paint, teased-up hair
World tried breakin’ every one of us
But the Jolenes ain’t never had shit on us
No baby—
They could flirt, steal, lie, and touch
But they’ll never have the soul of us.