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 .