You get off work on a Friday eve The backed up traffic is your pet peeve You stop off at the local bar Run into friends as you park your car You drink import on American dream Hey there's Mary , ain't she a scream Someone slips you some super daze Your out of it for a month of days You dance now with every smile Got you running fifteen miles Long ago you heard last call On the way out you stumble and fall Passed out inside your car Wake up behind the bars Gee you think it was so much fun Cain't wait till the next week's done
Drugs , ***** , and . . and . . and that other thing .