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Robbie Fulks
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Let's Kill Saturday Night
Lyricist：Fulks Rob
Well a dollar I make is a buck I owe
And a forty-hour week leaves ten to blow
But every game in this town is just nickel-and-dime
And when the sun goes down it feels like the last time
So down the main drag we ride with the engines roaring
If there's a fire inside, that's the one thing going
I've got the Mustang loaded, I've got a wrong to right
I've got a little red bullet, let's kill Saturday night
Knock it out of its misery, nail that coffin tight
High living, that's history, let's kill Saturday night
Well the little man's lot, that's a prince's life
A prince with a lousy job, a prince with a working wife
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Something in the big frame moved, it never was so hard
To keep a twenty-inch tube and a fenced in yard
But give me one night with the moon high and the radio pounding
And brother, this town's gonna go down kicking and shouting
I've got the Mustang loaded, I've got a wrong to right
I've got a little red bullet, let's kill Saturday night
Knock it out of its misery, nail that coffin tight
High living, that's history, let's kill Saturday night
I've got the Mustang loaded, I've got a wrong to right
I've got a little red bullet, let's kill Saturday night
Knock it out of its misery, nail that coffin tight
High living, that's history, let's kill Saturday night
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