Drive-By Truckers Album

Them stories that you tell me are so hard to swallow
You said “Go to hell” but I know you’d just follow
The future’s closing in quicker than you think
and hanging with you I know why Henry drinks

Those obnoxious drunks downstairs are fighting and cussing
and twelve years of me and you don’t add up to nothing
You say what’s on your mind - tell it to your shrink
so he can know like me why Henry drinks

Just a few more hours till the sun comes back around
to tear each other down and drink another round
lost it on the way now I’m hating what we found
mendacity and grudge-fucks and pieces out of town

I drink half a case of beer on my way home from work
Daddy needs his medicine to keep his hands off Mama’s throat
Baby, push a little harder cuz you got me on the brink
of spilling more than guts about why Henry drinks

Telling you so much about why Henry drinks

If I throw myself off Lookout Mountain
No more for my soul to keep
I wonder who will drive my car
I wonder if my Mom will weep

If I throw myself off Lookout Mountain
No more pain my soul to bare
No more worries about paying taxes
What to eat, what to wear
Who will end up with my records?
Who will end up with my tapes?
Who will pay my credit card bills?
Who's gonna pay for my mistakes?

If I throw myself off Lookout Mountain who will ever hear my songs?
Who's gonna mow the cemetery when all of my family's gone?
Who will Mom and Daddy find to continue the family name?
Who will stand there taking credit, who will lay there passing blame?

Who will lay there passing blame?

I wake up tired and I wake up pissed
wonder how I ended up like this
I wonder why things happen like they do
but I don't wonder long cuz I got a show to do

I'm sick at my stomach from the A.Z.T.
Broke at my bank cuz that shit ain't free
but I'm here to stay (at least another week or two)
I can't die now cuz I got another show to do

Don't give me no pity don't give me no grief
Wit till I die for sympathy
Just help me with this amp and a guitar or two
I can't die now cuz I got another show to do

Don't give me no preachin' no self servin'
I ain't no angel but nobody's deserving
I can dance on my own grave, Thank You!
but I can't die now cuz I got another show...

Some people keep saying I can't last long
Lyricsbut I got my bands I got my songs,
liquor, beer, and nicotine to help me along
and I'm drunk and stubborn as they come
chain smoking, guitar picking, til I'm gone

I ain't got no political agenda
Ain't got no message for the youth of America
'cept "Wear a rubber and be careful who you screw"
and come see me next Friday cuz I got another show...

Some people stop living long before they die
Work a dead end job just to scrape on by
but I keep living just to bend that note in two
and I can't die now cuz I got another show...

Stacy was a troubled teen ever since she was twelve. She felt the world close
in on her and thought she needed help. Listening to the radio on a Sunday
night. She heard the preacher calling out to call up on his Help-line. He
sounded so nice, he sounded so inviting, and for a small donation she could
have the Lord Almighty. She told him her story. He told her his thoughts. He
said you better get yourself right in the eyes of God. Too much sex, too
little Jesus.

Satan's made a slave of you, the Lord will set you free! You don't know God from diddly
and you're old enough to breed. The sins of me and you are the reason he did bleed.
Now a word from our sponsor then another troubled teen with...
Too much sex, too little Jesus.

Stop that dope smoking, stop that masturbation! Take the Lord into your heart and stop
that fornication. We're building us an army, gonna knock out Satan. Visa or Mastercard,
our operaters are waiting!
Too much sex, too little Jesus.
Too much sex, too little Jesus.
Too much sex, too little Jesus

[No lyrics]

Mama ran off with a trucker
Mama ran off with a trucker
Mama ran off with a trucker
Peterbilt Peterbilt

He is making her give life another stab
They can see the world from way up in the cab

Mama ran off with a trucker...........
Peterbilt Peterbilt

She can quit her job and be his little bride
He can get a local route and stay home by her side
She can fix him roast beast and sweet potato pie
He can eat a lot of it cuz he’s a big ole guy

They got married in Dollywood
(by a Porter Waggoner lookalike)
18 Wheels of Love

[No lyrics]

I don't want to go to dinner with Margo and Harold.
I don't like the way he looks at you, and the way she looks at me,
way they look at each other, like we're just part of some private joke.

I don't want to go dinner with Margo and Harold,
no matter how good the food.
I don't want to make small talk, innuendo,
or go for a ride in Harold's Corvette.

I'm scared of the basement of Harold's Pawn Shop,
I've heard tales of what goes down there.
Mid-life crises, high on Dilauded, Valium, and crystal meth.
Harold and Margo, feeling no pain
Fifty and crazy, big hair and cocaine.

If they call on the phone, tell them I'm not home.
That night with Margo was a long time ago.
It makes me nervous how much Harold knows,
and the way that he looks at you.

I don't want to see why Harold's now skinny.
I don't want to see Margo's bikini.
So if they call, tell them you ain't seen me or that I'm in too much pain.
Harold and Margo, taking aim.
Horny and loaded, big-hair and cocaine

Tired of living in Buttholeville
Tired of my job and my wife Lucille
Tired of my kids Ronnie and Neil
Tired of my 68 Bonneville
Working down at Billy Bob’s Bar and Grille
The food here tastes like the way I feel
There’s a girl on the dance floor dressed to kill
She’s the best looking woman in Buttholeville

One day I’m gonna get out of Buttholeville
Gonna reach right in Gonna grab the till
Buy a brand new hat and a Coupe deVille
lay a patch on the road that runs over the hill
There’s a beach somewhere where the water’s are still
Gonna lay in the sun till my skin peals
Drinking the best scotch whiskey, eating lobster and eel
and I’m never going back to Buttholeville

Never going, never going, never going never going back!

Steve McQueen Steve McQueen
When I was a little boy I wanted to grow up to be
Steve McQueen Steve McQueen
The coolest doggone motherscratcher on the silver screen

I’d drive real fast everywhere no one would ever catch me
and I’d kick your ass if you pissed me off so be careful what you ask me
and I’d never have an empty bottle or an empty bed
and as cool as Paul Newman is I bet Steve could whup his head

Steve McQueen............................

Bullet was my favorite movie that I’d ever seen
I totaled my go-cart trying to imitate that chase scene
That Duster had six hubcaps, know what I mean
and I love the way they all flew off when it landed in that ravine

Steve McQueen............................

I really loved The Getaway back when I was eight
that pussy Alec Baldwin sucked in the remake
Lyricsand speaking of pussy, I guess Steve got it all
He fucked Faye Dunaway and he fucked Ali McGraw

Steve McQueen Steve McQueen
When I was a little boy I wanted to grow up to be
Steve McQueen Steve McQueen
The coolest goddamn mothefucker on the silver screen
(yee-haw)

(suddenly the scene turns slow and somber, as a campfire harp plays in the background)
I went to see The Hunter on my first date
The Hunter was the last movie Steve McQueen lived to make
They took my drivers license when I was just sixteen
the year Mesothelioma killed Steve McQueen

Johnny sniffing glue, he was 12 years old
Fell to the Earth on Easter night
Cathy was 11 when she pulled the plug
On 26 reds and a bottle of wine
Bobby got leukemia, 14 years old
He looked like 65 when he died
He was a friend of mine

Those are people who died, died
They were all my friends, and they died

Brian got busted on a narco rap
He beat the rap by rattin' on some bikers
He said, "Hey, I know it's dangerous, but it sure beats Riker's"
But the next day he got offed by the very same bikers

Those are people who died, died
They were all my friends, and they died

Herbie pushed Tony from the Boys' Club roof
Tony thought that his rage was just some goof
But Herbie sure gave Tony some bitchen proof
"Hey," Herbie said, "Tony, can you fly?"
But Tony couldn't fly, Tony died

Those are people who died, died
They were all my friends, and they died

Coming home with a bottle, trying not to break the seal.
This Friday evening traffic's about enough to break a man's will.
And I can't wait to see you and see how your week has gone,
and tear into Old No.7 and make love till dawn.
But your Mama she'll be calling, if she ain't knocking on the door.
And it won't take me long to remember what I brought that bottle home for.
And we'll all get to fighting, just like we always do.
And by Saturday morning, I'll be singing these blues.

Last night I slept with my boots on again,
one cut on my forehead and one my chin,
on the hard old floor with nothin to cover up with.
You got me real good, girl, and I must admit,
you pack purty mean punch for such a pretty little dish.
And it's a shame to know most folks don't ever know love like this.

Come Monday morning, I'll be sore to a fare-thee-well.
Cussin' God and America, wishing them both just to send me off to hell.
But the boss man don't want no excuses when it comes time to get on the clock.
And without that paycheck, I'd lose the rest of what sweet love I got.

Last night I slept with my boots on again,
one cut on my forehead and one my chin,
on the hard old floor with nothin to cover up with.
You got me real good, girl, and I must admit,
you pack purty mean punch for such a pretty little dish.
And it's a shame to know most folks don't ever know love like this