Friday Night Blues - John Conlee

Another friday night Guess I'll put a clean shirt on and hitch a ride to town No more work for two whole days, there's no point hangin' around Working on the road I sweat and ache And cuss the pain but it sure does pass the time Two days free and all I see other same old walls to climb Guess I could fall by Moroe's bar and maybe borrow Jacks guitar And find a girl to sing to, Lord knows she's what I'm longing Eh, who am I kidding she can't be, the sort of girl who'll wait for me And Sunday races in the kinda places I belong in But I hold on to my dreams anyway I'll never let them die they keep me going through the bad times While I dream of the good times coming by Ten years out from home I joined the circus worked the fields But I've never saved a dime Never stayed in one place long 'less I was doin' time Looking for my life I thought I found it once or twice but it turned out I was wrong Heard the music and learned the dance to someone else's song I've had men tell me be content to spend your life for food and rent and Give up trying they say life's a dying jailer I just tell them I'd do alright still it's rough on Friday night But there is time for thinking I spend it drinking up my failure But I hold on to my dreams anyway I'll never let them die they keep me going through the bad times While I dream of the good times coming by

Toyroom on a Friday night fuck a bad bitch, yeah Padha cash on me yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Chaata main saara smoke Chaata main saare hoes Bank hit, kiya blow Har din lit mera kyu Bank mera full so kyu Bitch meri bad so kyu Show gone main so on, bitch go home Live on main lit mode yeh shit so Padha cash on me yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Padha cash hai full bitch Kar raha ball bank full bitch Light switch up badla abhi ghar pe light Jeevan bright Jab cash aata padhosi aate, rishtedaar jisne na koi rishta wo aate Kaun yeh log Paise aaye par main na badla, shooter badle Nahi chahiye yeh sab stoic main Bitch meri throw it back Lean cup main refill that Show 'em that Go Toyroom on a Friday night fuck a bad bitch, yeah Padha cash on me yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Chaata main saara smoke Chaata main saare hoes Bank hit, kiya blow Har din lit mera kyu Bank mera full so kyu Bitch meri bad so kyu Show gone main so on, bitch go home Live on main lit mode yeh shit so Padha cash on me yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Stumble from my good warm bed E monday morning oh my head D got to go and e do it all a again e A wake up baby rise and shine E its coffee, eggs, and bacon time D walk your working e man out to the a car e Verse 2: A the boss is in his usual mood E not one thing does he approves D sometimes you cant keep him a satisfied Up and down the assemble line E worried faces much like mine D showing the wear and tare in their a eyes Chorus: Their d making it hard on the a working man E trying to make a livin any{a}way he can D making ends meat on the a installment plan E his money goes right a threw his hands D heaven help us if you a think you can Their d making it ha{e}rd on the working man {d}{d}{e}{a} Verse 3: A big policeman in his prime E sits behind his billboard sign D aims his radar gun right straight a at me A letter from the irs E said," boy your taxes are a mess" D is this the way the good life is suppose to a be Chorus Verse 4: A stumble from my good warm bed E monday morning oh my head D got to go and do it all a again To much room in my frigidaire E the kids all need new shoes to wear D payments late on my old truck a again Chorus Repeat chorus and fade