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First Love Butterflies, Last Chance Boots

Tired of chasing first-love fireworks when you’d rather have a porch light that actually stays on? This satirical California country tune is your new breakup anthem and your next dating profile mood board. In “Last Romance Adoption Program,” Tessa—a 50-year-old, three-times-divorced, spiritually-saturated Californian—walks you through the comedy and carnage of modern love in the land of green juice and emotional unavailability. She’s done the seminars, burned the sage, survived the gluten-free boyfriend who declared that bread was a mindset, and sat through more “conscious uncouplings” than any human should. Armed with Oscar Wilde’s line, Men always want to be a woman's first love, but women like to be a man's last romance, Tessa turns that quote into a full-blown life policy. Why be someone’s training wheels when you can be their final draft? This song is a snarky love letter to “pre-owned hearts” that have been properly road-tested by life, therapy, and at least one ugly cry in a parking lot. You’ll hear Telecaster twang, dusty California imagery, and a middle-aged female narrator who has absolutely no time left for emotional toddlers in cowboy boots. Instead of romanticizing first crush jitters, she sings the praises of men who are housebroken emotionally—like senior rescue dogs who won’t chew through your boundaries or your bank account. If you’ve ever rolled your eyes at another friend chasing “butterflies” while you just want someone who shows up, texts back, and knows where the emotional food bowl is, this track will feel uncomfortably accurate and deeply satisfying. It’s funny, a little brutal, and surprisingly tender by the end. Use this song as: – A soundtrack for your next “I am too old for this” moment – Background music for deleting your ex’s number (again) – A toast at brunch when the mimosas hit and the honesty kicks in Hit play, raise a glass to Oscar Wilde, and celebrate the radical idea that being someone’s last romance might just be the most efficient kind of love story. If you’ve ever thought, “I don’t need first love—I need final draft energy,” this one’s for you.