Looking for an answer
But, I still don't get the question
People liking country
But, I'm still missin' western
On the straight and narrow
But, I'm stuck on the turn
Not sure where I'm goin'
When ever will I  learn?

People always texting
But, me... I'm leaving notes
They are  always flying
And me, I'm stuck on boats
They know all the hot spots
But, me I'm stuck at home
They go out together
I stay home alone

I'm a long necked bottle
In a short necked box
They're all hunting
And I'm the fox
I'm a half beat slow
When the music rocks
I'm a long necked bottle
In a short necked box

Looking to the future
While I'm  looking at the past
I look at the country
They just go by fast
I'm trying to fit in
I can't tell you how I feel
It' like I'm going round
But, I am the fifth wheel

Going out for drinks
I always go to the wrong bar
They want to go out dancing
I want a good cigar
They all like to disco
I like "Whiskey in the Jar"
They all drive big trucks
I drive a rusty car

I'm a long necked bottle
In a short necked box
They're all hunting
And I'm the fox
I'm a half beat slow
When the music rocks
I'm a long necked bottle
In a short necked box

Woke up late
Day's shot to hell
But, hey it's Friday
So, I guess it's just as well

Called in,
booked the day off
I figured what the hell
Had a coffee and ten cigarettes
But, it's Friday...can't you tell

It never fails to come around
The Friday morning curse
There's nothing you can say or do
That will fix or make it worse
By six a.m the day is shot
And it hasn't started yet
Breakfast is a coffee...cold
And at least ten cigarettes

Figured since
I'm staying home
I'll watch some tv shows
Cable bill got missed this month
I guess that's how it goes

It's Friday
so, I'm going
To head down to the bar
But, I find out in my driveway
That someone stole my car

It never fails to come around
The Friday morning curse
There's nothing you can say or do
That will fix or make it worse
By six a.m the day is shot
And it hasn't started yet
Breakfast is a coffee...cold
And at least ten cigarettes

I think
I'll call a taxi
That'll get me to the bar
Then I think
You *****
You left your wallet in the car

The day
is going nowhere
And it seems, I am too
But, hey
At least it's Friday
And to me...it's nothing new

It never fails to come around
The Friday morning curse
There's nothing you can say or do
That will fix or make it worse
By six a.m the day is shot
And it hasn't started yet
Breakfast is a coffee...cold
And at least ten cigarettes


No wife
No car, a day off too
No tv shows to see
There's nothing
more can happen
That can make this worse for me

Breakfast, it's
cold coffee and
at least ten cigarettes
But, hell
It's frickin' Friday
And the day ain't started yet...

It never fails to come around
The Friday morning curse
There's nothing you can say or do
That will fix or make it worse
By six a.m the day is shot
And it hasn't started yet
Breakfast is a coffee...cold
And at least ten cigarettes

There he was- the object of my affection.
He said each word as if it was carefully picked
Eloquently placed into a beautiful handwritten love letter.  

He had come from a past era, it was evident in the way he moved.
Each physical characteristic was beautiful and shocking
It’s hard to move away from this magnetic being.

I try to be pretty and feminine because that’s what boys like him would want
Every stitch, carefully picked out and examined
Every disproportionate feeling, hidden with my idea of perfect contentment
Every hopeful glance from another leaving my eyes greener than I had originally thought.

I didn’t know him well in the summer
I only knew of the charm and the grace that he had given
Our truck rides and the faded Polaroid colours

He didn’t look at me like teenage boys look at their teenage girlfriends.
With a soft gaze and slightly parted lips
He was silently telling me that he’d do anything for me
That I was dream and that he was a dreamer
And that my happiness was completely his.
He silently told me that we were in love
And I believed him.

When I was a kid,
folding chairs
were my kryptonite.