(robbie fulks)



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 nickel-and-dime

When the sun goes down it feels like the last time

Down the main drag we ride with our engines roaring

If there's a fire inside, it's the one thing going





I got a mustang loaded

I got a wrong to right

I got a little red bullet

Let's kill saturday night

Knock it out of its misery

Nail that coffin tight

High living, it's history

Let's kill saturday night





The little man's lot is a prince's life

A prince with a lousy job, a prince with a working wife

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





Chorus


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