Lyrics
There ain’t nothing better than a Saturday night
Anything can happen under neon lights:
Shave your face, comb your hair, new pair of underwear,
Slicked back, pay check, fresh pack of cigarettes,
Stick with me you’ll see, new boots on my feet,
Hair gunk, half drunk feeling like a hundred bucks
Like a hundred bucks
I’m going downtown and I’m gonna try my luck
And I ain’t going down till the sun comes up:
Barstool, game of pool, try your best to look cool,
Jump back, shot of Jack, drug dealing in the back,
Dance floor, one more, head’s gonna be sore,
Listen honey, here’s some money, another round and keep them coming
Just keep them coming
There’s a pretty little waitress running off her feet
She don’t give her number to punks like me
Short skirt, loves to flirt, so pretty it hurts,
Shaking hips, red lips, only in it for the tips,
Nice smile, drive you wild, I wish I wasn’t so shy,
I bet she’s gotta boyfriend… I don’t give a damn
I don’t give a damn
Hanging around with them good time friends of mine
When I run outta money they run outta time
Cross-eyed, I’ll buy, just go up and say hi
New keg, rubber legs, baby don’t you make me beg,
Wanna dance? No chance, the band butchers Johnny Cash
How come every time I’m drunk it seems all the ugly people leave?
Where the hell do they go?
They’re putting up the chairs I better call me a cab
I must’ve forgotten to pay my tab
Bouncer had a screw loose, covered in tattoos,
Threw me out the front door said, don’t come back no more
My eyes are red, I’m half dead, I called him a meat head
Can’t walk, can’t talk I hope my door ain’t locked.
I hope it ain’t locked.
I couldn’t find the bed, I couldn’t miss the floor
Woke up in the morning in all my clothes
Crawled into bed, sore head, wishing that I was dead
My mouth was like an ash-tray, slept through Sunday
Dreaming about a waitress, wondering where my money went
The phone was ringing off the hook, I gotta apologize to:
The barman, the bouncer and the cab driver,
The waitress, Jesus, I can’t remember who else
I called on the telephone at twenty-five to four
I’m never gonna drink again… till next weekend
Not until next weekend.