Lyrics Saturday - White Reaper

Saturday

Thank you much for calling me
But my hand’s already trembling
I’m just trying to politely
Ask you to excuse my misbehavior
I brought too many drinks with me
And a ten ton bucket of gasoline
But I’m dressed for the occasion
So I’m staying till it’s done or till I’m thrown
And I don’t think people here mess around
They’re saying we both need to get outta here
Oh, and I know it’s gotta be on the count of four
Really do got to go
Oh, these old stares have turned on me
And my boots untied and I’ve clipped my wings
I’m just tryin' to arrive in such a manner
So as not to look alone
Oh, well, I do
And I don’t think people here mess around
They’re saying we both need to get outta here
Oh, and I know it’s gotta be on the count of four
Really do got to go
Don’t get caught up in holding on
If you can’t let go