Lyrics from Midnight Golf
Got My Eye On You
by Charles Blackburn and Spence Foscue
You come into town
Even old dogs howl,
Drink whisky, get frisky,
Go on the prowl.
Act like you don’t know
Which way the river flow.
Got news for ya, baby,
And I don’t mean maybe.
Got my eye on you,
Got my eye on you,
Got my eye on you,
And I can see right through you.
You look at me sideways, start to grin.
Think your eyes ain’t never seen sin.
We'll finish this song
Before it's sung,
You got me on the gallows
But I ain't getting hung.
Got my eye on you,
Got my eye on you,
Got my eye on you,
Can’t wait to get the edge on you.
You all the time hongry, never get fed.
Sleep on the floor, eat on the bed.
Your train of thought has done run off the track.
Baby that train ain’t never comin’ back.
Got my eye on you,
Got my eye on you,
Got my eye on you,
Can’t wait to put a spell on you.
Got my eye on you,
Got my eye on you,
Got my eye on you,
Can’t wait to get my hands on you.
Not My Fault
by Tom Cole
Looks like I’m gonna be a little bit late.
I’m not too worried, ’cause I know you’ll wait.
My kid got sick, my car broke down,
And the bus won’t stop in my part of town.
When I walk my dog, I take a rubber glove.
I do it for friendship, I do it for love.
I pick it up, put it in the sack,
Then I leave it there, and I’m not coming back.
I don’t care what the neighbors say.
They criticize me anyway.
I take it with a grain of salt.
It’s not my fault, not my fault.
Why do you kick me in the middle of the night?
So what if I snore? No reason to fight.
Sleep somewhere else? Well, be my guest.
At least one of us can get some rest.
Refrain
Not my fault, not my fault
Not my fault, not my fault
Not my fault, not my fault
Chicago Style
by Spence Foscue
A great lake called Michigan
Rolls up against the shore.
There’s lots and lots and lots of skyline,
And back of that we got some more.
We got the wind in the winter,
Lots of snow by the pile,
And that’s Chicago style.
We got the mighty Bears.
The market likes the Bulls, too.
The White Sox dig first place
And keep the park full, too.
What can you say about the Cubs?
Well, it’s been a little while,
And that’s Chicago style.
Mrs. O’Leary had an Irish cow.
It burned the whole town to the ground.
Never mind that clumsy bovine.
You can see the town has stuck around.
We got a thousand stockyards
That made it through the big fire.
Take a walk on the Southside.
Hear all the blues you desire.
Muddy, Willie, Koko Taylor,
They’ll cure your pain and make you smile,
And that’s Chicago style.
Mrs. O’Leary had an Irish cow.
It burned the whole town to the ground.
Listen to the trains travel on the L.
Now we have a signature sound.
We got some politicians
Of all shapes and hues.
They’re like the 30’s gangsters
without the bootleg booze.
Well the food is real hearty
The pizza’s thick and worthwhile.
‘Cause it’s Chicago style.
Burnin’ Sensation
by Steve Esthimer
You gave me a burning sensation, and I feel it every day.
You gave me a burning sensation, and it just won’t go away.
I’m stuck with you, Babe, so I guess it’s here to stay.
At first I thought it’s global warming, and I didn’t feel so bad.
So I turned up the air conditioner, and tried to chill down in my pad.
But nothin’ seems to help me, this is the worst I’ve ever had.
You gave me a burning sensation, and I feel it every day.
You gave me a burning sensation, and it just won’t go away.
I’m stuck with you, Babe, so I guess it’s here to stay.
So I’m peerin’ out my window, and what do you think I see?
You runnin’ ‘round with my neighbor, both as frisky as can be.
I know what’s gonna happen: He’ll be burnin’ up just like me!
I wish I could go out cruisin’, out makin’ the social scene.
Be dancin’ like James Brown now, pumpin’ like a sex machine.
But I got this little issue, an’ I’m stuck in quarantine.
You gave me a burnin’ sensation, Babe, and I feel it every day.
You gave me a burnin’ sensation, and it just won’t go away.
But I’m stuck with you, Hot Stuff, so I guess it’s here to stay!
Nightbird
by Charles Blackburn
The moon is down.
The spell is broken.
Nightbird cries.
Where are you?
Didn’t mean to hurt you.
You should have spoken
When our hearts
Where high above us.
No, don’t leave me.
Nightbird don’t fly.
Moon sink slowly
Till morning.
The moon is down.
The spell is broken.
Nightbird cries.
Where are you?
Lauralei
by Jimmy Dickerson and Benji McKellar
With her country ways and her long blonde hair,
She pierced my heart with a blue white stare, oh Laura.
In a one horse town where the rusted cars
And the prairie grass make the soul grow hard, oh Laura.
She looked at me with big blue eyes.What more could I say?
Then she put a padlock on my heart and threw the key away, oh …
At the honky tonk where the howlin’ rose
She danced ‘til two on her pretty toes, oh Laura.
With a heart of gold and a dagger wit,
She’s a country girl, she’ll never quit, oh Laura.
And her sweet dreams she’ll not reveal.
You’ll never know just what she feels, oh Laura.
Oh Laura, oh Laura
Oh Laura, oh Laura, Laura, Lauralei
Oh Laura, oh Laura
Oh Laura, oh Laura, Laura, Lauralei
Face Down In The Bayou
by Spence Foscue
You see all these poor folks and hear about the murders every day;
Cause the little people fill the jails while politicians take the cash away.
Go down to City Hall if you want to find the guilty one.
Look for the gold in the smile, not the flash of a gun.
I’ve seen your picture with the DA, don’t you make a nice pair.
You got a serious look, he’s the one with the hair.
Just choose your words with care, never say just what you know
Or you might find yourself face down, face down in the bayou.
Your best defense just might evaporate.
Nobody shows up. You’re hoping they’re just late.
The other lawyer looks at you with a little smile.
It just comes down to “No witness, no trial.”
Maybe some pretty assistant DA will find you the right file.
Could be they will spill the beans before you’re dragged into a trial.
Maybe you will find the evidence that will lead you down the right path,
Or you just might be taking a long Mississippi bath.
Yeah, it’s been good talking to you, hope to see you around.
There’s a few good times left in this crazy old southern town.
You better look over your shoulder and always know who is who.
I don’t want to see a picture of you face down in the bayou.
I Got Chased By A Mennonite
by Steve Esthimer
I was drivin’ my Ford down a dusty road,
Goin’ pretty fast, not carryin’ much load,
When all of a sudden, outa nowhere
There’s a man in the road givin’ me the devil’s glare.
I got chased by a Mennonite.
Believe me, brother, it gave me quite a fright.
All I saw was that wide-brimmed hat
And I was outa there in two seconds flat.
I was takin’ a shortcut so I wouldn’t see a cop.
I’d had a little whiskey, but my drivin’s tip-top.
Everything was smooth ‘til I hit that stretch.
I almost blew it all when I flew by that old wretch.
I got chased by a Mennonite.
He was crossin’ the road, goin’ home for the night
I swear I didn’t see him, it was gettin’ real near dark.
Gravel was a flyin’ as I swerved by the patriarch.
First he started yellin’, then he took to foot.
Ran me down halfway to town, that crazy old coot.
Tried my best to get away, avoid all consequence,
An’ darn, I barely made it, even though I have to admit
I went outa control…an’ I hit a ditch…an’ I bounced around
…an’ I broke his fence
Refrain B
I don’t know what’s worse, I’d rather not choose,
Especially when my mind is foggy from the booze.
Run afoul of the law, or squash a man of the Lord.
Either way, I’m goin’ to hell, and I’m gonna lose my Ford.
Refrain A
Now you’ve heard my story, and you see I’m here to tell
About a man who ran me down to send me straight to hell.
He couldn’t use a car, so he chased me on his feet.
Another day like that, I care not to repeat
Refrain B
Refrain A
True To The Blues
by Spence Foscue
You can sing about the good times and things that set your soul free.
You can sing about hard times and the misery yet to be.
You can sing about walkin’ tall or walkin’ in another one's shoes.
But when you sing your song, you got to be true to the blues.
Don’t have to sing about your baby skippin’ out or nights that seem cold and long.
Don’t have to sing about makin’ things right or the one who done you wrong.
Don’t have to sing about me and you sure don’t have to sing about you.
But when you sing your song, you got to be true to the blues.
You can have heartache or be happy as a lark,
You might be singin’ in the sunshine or crying in the dark.
You might broke as a mouse or able to pay your dues
But like it or not, you got to be true to the blues.
Repeat refrain
Texas Moon
by Jimmy Dickerson
I could feel that desert breeze
And your hands upon my knees.
Then I whispered “won’t you please,”
And you, yeah you, you were mine.
You, yeah you, you were mine.
I’d never seen so many stars.
We gazed on Venus then on Mars.
That night the desert came to life.
That Texas moon causes so much strife.
It must have been that Texas moon.
You remember late last June,
Hangin’ up there like a spoon.
And you, yeah you, you were mine.
You, yeah you, you were mine.
There must’ve been about a hundred of them
Racin’ down like the panhandle wind.
I can’t forget the look on your face
As they vanished without a trace.
Repeat second verse
There’s A Song In That
by Steve Esthimer
Someone tells a funny story.
A waitress pours soup on my lap.
The president gets his words mixed up.
It’s as clear as a thunder clap.
A headline leaps off the front page.
An ad makes me do a double take.
A dropout wins the “education lottery.”
I get a fever and start to shake.
There’s a song in that . You couldn’t make it up.
There’s a song in that. You betcha, sure, yup.
There’s a song in that. It happens every day.
I’d better write it down before it gets away.
I have to swing a possum in the back yard.
My pants fall down at a bar.
A woman says she’d like to bite my ear.
The axle falls off of my car.
My wife makes fun of my clothing.
I get poked with a stick in the eye.
Someone crashes through a farmer’s fence
Then falls on a fresh cow pie.
Refrain
Three guys sit naked in a hot tub.
The band spends a weekend at the beach.
I leave a hot iron on a white shirt.
A babe takes a bite from a peach.
We all want to have more money.
A legend calls it quits.
My dog gets drunk on my homebrew.
There’s a Southerner who can’t stand grits.
Eat It Over The Sink
by Spence Foscue
My mama always told me
When I got home from school
“Cleanliness is next to holiness.”
That's why she made it the rule.
But I had to make myself a snack.
I was hungry after all that learning.
No measly apple would do me
‘Cause my stomach was really churning.
So I just sliced myself a tomato
And covered it with mayonnaise.
Put it on some Wonder bread
And then my mama would say:
Eat it over the sink.
Be careful with that food.
Eat it over the sink.
You better finish it while it’s still good.
Eat it over the sink.
Mess up my kitchen and you will pay.
Eat it over the sink.
Then you can go outside and play.
Mama don't want to seem like a grouch.
That's why we have plastic on the couch.
I got way too much to do
Than to waste my time cleanin' up after you.
We didn’t have much money.
My brothers were as hungry as I.
We always had a race
To get mama’s last piece of pie.
Mama tried to hide it
Behind the Brussels sprouts.
When she heard us fighting
She would start to shout.
Chorus
The Angels’ Share
by Steve Esthimer
Soft away the pipes are blowin’
Some old Londonderry air,
And the devil take the bastard
Robbed me of the angels’ share.
Nothing stays with us forever
Though we may pray so hard it will.
You can start out with a full cup
And lose some right out in a spill
I did know one fine lass in Glasgow.
I loved her full with all my heart
But ‘ere the stag was on the loch side
My true love did depart.
The love we had was deep as Loch Ness
And for no one else did we care
But sure as day slips into nighttime
Some one robbed me of the angels’ share.
They say that whisky is from the heavens
And it’s called “the breath of life,”
But like the cask that let’s its share go,
The devil stole away my wife.
But lest I give up on my whisky,
‘Fore I turn my back on love,
I’ll let the angels take their pleasure
And I’ll keep searching for my dove.
Soft away the pipes are blowin’
Some old Londonderry air
And the devil take the bastard
Robbed me of the angels’ share.
Pottymouth
by Tom Cole
I can’t take her home to Mama, can’t take her out,
Because she has a tendency to swear.
She’s so fine but she’s sure embarrassing me,
And I got to tell her that’s why I can’t take her anywhere
Went to church on Sunday. She had her Sunday smile.
She said she read her bible every G-D day.
I said “Preacher, don’t you roll your big eyes at me.
The Lord above knows I'm in love with her anyway.”
Preacher says to love the sinner and hate the sin,
But Preacher I just can’t help about the shape I’m in.
When she whispers in my ear I get a shiver up and down my back.
That potty talk is gonna give me a heart attack.
She’s a pottymouth. She’s a pottymouth.
She’s a pottymouth. She’s a pottymouth.
Repeat verse 3.
She’s a pottymouth. She’s a pottymouth.
She’s a pottymouth. She’s a pottymouth.
Midnight Golf
by Steve Esthimer
Fill your cooler, get your golf clubs, and c’mon to my barn.
Bring lots of extra golf balls, if you lose ‘em, it’s no harm.
We’re gonna wait ‘til the moon’s out; it’s the perfect time to play.
Don’t have to wait for weekends, we can do this any day.
We’re gonna play midnight golf; we’re gonna hit ‘em under the lights.
Won’t be nobody playin’ through, no green fees tonight.
Gonna play golf by the moonlight; might even get a hole-in-one.
Don’t matter if we keep the score, just want to have cheap fun
Playing midnight golf, midnight golf, midnight golf.
Park the cars in a line, out at the edge of the grass.
Kill the engine, set the brake, don’t want to waste your gas.
Click your highbeams on, and roll the windows down.
Tune the radios all to the station, the only one in town. And crank it up!
Midnight golf
Watch your swing.
Keep your eye on the ball
If you can see that thing.
Don’t spill your drink.
You’re gonna need it all.
And mind your feet.
You don’t want to fall
Playin’ midnight golf, midnight golf, midnight golf.
Tee off, take a drink, take a mulligan too.
Use a driver or an iron, don’t matter what you do.
Yell “Fore!” or maybe “Five!”, and take a real big swing
Just aim away from the tractor, you don’t want to make a ding.
Refrain
You can try to make par; every hole’s an even four.
You can cheat if you want; you’re the one keepin’ score.
And when we’ve played a round, you’re gonna have to yield
To another game of golf in a overgrown kudzu field.
Refrain
You Run Your Mouth Too Much
by Spence Foscue
You run your mouth too much.
Just saying this and that and such and such.
If words were gold you’d have a Midas touch.
You run your mouth too much.
It’s not that you don’t have anything to say,
But if it’s been said you’d say it anyway,
You are the definition of loquacious,
When I hear silence, I say “Goodness gracious!”
You run your mouth too much.
If it were a car, you’d pop the clutch.
If it were jumpin’ rope it would be double dutch.
You run your mouth too much.
I risk a lot by interrupting the conversation.
But when I hear myself it’s a new sensation.
If your tongue got twisted it would cause a tornado.
Like a gushing well in the fields of Laredo.
It all comes out just like Niagara Falls..
More than a Hollywood agent’s cell phone calls.
Just tell me why it must be so incessant.
You make want to take an antidepressant.
You run your mouth too much.
Just saying this and that and such and such.
If words were gold you’d have a Midas touch.
You run your mouth too much.
Lyrics from Shotgun Wedding
Shotgun Wedding
by Spence Foscue
Ever since that day you told me you were mine,
I hear your daddy’s heavy breathing on the party line.
Got to watch where this is heading. Might be a shotgun wedding.
When you call me late at night, I’m not too sure of my thoughts.
Wanna try to get to you, pretty baby, without getting caught.
You know you couldn’t be finer. Let’s go to South Carolina.
Shotgun wedding. You look so good all dressed in white.
Shotgun wedding. In our rental limousine on our wedding night.
Shotgun wedding. Mama never said it would be like this.
Now you’re married to me, baby, before our first kiss.
Maybe this is just excitement or maybe this is fear.
Your daddy’s hairy arm around my shoulder; tobacco breath in my ear.
Yes, your daddy likes his Skol. And he don’t believe in gun control.
Refrain
Now we have the same name in the society news.
I could have stayed a carefree man with nothing to lose.
But with that gun against my spine, I gave my Sunday shoes a shine.
Refrain
S.O.S.
by Steve Esthimer
My girlfriend says she’s mine; she tells me that’s no lie.
But how come the guys, all over town, they call her “Sweetie Pie”?
It’s the same old stuff. It’s the same old stuff.
It’s the same old stuff, and I ain’t gonna listen any more.
My neighbor comes and says, he wants to borrow my new truck,
But he’ll bring it back all banged up and say “It’s just bad luck”
Refrain
My boss likes the way I work, because I work long days,
But every day, for five years now, she’s been promising me a raise.
Refrain
Same old stuff. Same old stuff. Same old stuff.
The President he says, “We’ve got to go to war!”
But the reasons he gives for four long years, they ain’t gonna work no more.
Refrain
Cruise Control
by Tom Cole
You think you make your own decisions.
You think that you can hesitate.
You handicapped your guardian angel
When you gave hostages to Fate.
He’ll send a drifter for your daughter,
Exotic dancer for your son.
He’ll take away your pension money,
And you won’t be the only one.
I wish my middle name was Valentino.
I wish I was top dog on the totem pole.
I wish I was still living in the fast lane.
I feel like I’m locked down in cruise control.
I’d like to ride my bike to Murphy.
I’d like to take up welding too.
I’d like to watch the game on Sunday,
And take my children to the zoo.
I got to make some more decisions.
I want to write a new hit song.
I’d like to stop and smell the roses,
I can’t stop trying to get along.
Refrain
Valentino’s life was complicated.
It’s lonesome at the top of the totem pole.
You can’t do too much living in the fast lane.
I think I’ll lock it down in cruise control.
I think I’ll lock it down in cruise control.
Night to Remember
by Spence Foscue
I want to listen to the voice of reason.
I know it’s somewhere inside my brain.
But all I hear is the hammer in my head
Pounding out a hard refrain.
Well, I must have been out late last night
Doing the things that heaven forbids.
It must have been a night to remember
’Cause I’ve forgotten everything I did.
Well, you might think a man like me
Would know the meaning of “last call, please.”
I’d like to say a little prayer for remission,
But I might not get off of my knees.
Well, I’d look up above for some heavenly love,
But who am I trying to kid.
It must have been a night to remember
’Cause I’ve forgotten everything I did.
Lord, help me remember what I did and where I’ve been.
Wait a minute. I might not want to know.
Want you help me find a friend to put me back
on the wagon and show the horse where to go.
Maybe one more night is all that I need
To settle down and start livin’ right.
Put me in a car and take me down to a bar
And let me start just one more fight.
Well occifer please, I’m down on my knees.
Show me the row where I’m bound to skid.
It must have been a night to remember
’Cause I’ve forgotten everything I did.
Refrain
I Don't Wear Gucci Suits
by Steve Esthimer
I don’t wear Gucci suits, and my T-shirts come in threes.
My shoes are fixed with duct tape; I wear pants sewn by Chinese.
I don’t send clothes to the cleaners; no wash, starch, ’n ’ fold each week.
When I find some time, I’ll wash them at the laundromat down the street.
So I sniff my socks and boxers; if they’re not ripe, I’m good to go.
I can wear ’em for another week, and not smell like a buffalo.
I drink milk out of the carton, drive my car ’til the gas goes to “E.”
Don’t have cable or a computer, just a black-and-white TV.
I cook spaghetti by the gallon, put a week’s worth up in the fridge.
If it’s not green by Tuesday, I’ll eat it all ‘n’ not leave a smidge.
And I sniff my socks and boxers; if they’re not ripe, I’m good to go.
I can wear ’em for another week, and not smell like an old hobo.
My car tires are all baldies, but they get me where I’m goin’.
Its paint job turned all rusty, and the engine makes a groan.
My clothes come from the thrift shop, they look fine and some even fit.
I cut my hair with old dog clippers and shave with a safety razor kit.
I still sniff my socks and boxers; if they’re not ripe, I’m good to go.
I can wear ’em for another week, and not smell like trash day in Tokyo.
Now you might say I’m a cheapskate; go ahead, I’ve got thick skin.
You can say all you want, I won’t care; just don’t call me “feminine.”
My beer comes in quart bottles, I buy SlimJims by the gross.
I party ’til I drop and then some, or at least ’til I’m comatose.
But when I wake, I sniff my socks and boxers; if they’re not ripe, I’m good to go.
I can wear ’em for the rest of the week, and not smell like old fish roe.
Just Like New York City
by Jimmy Dickerson
Your red baggy eyes and stubble chin face.
Your whiskey breath and your human race.
And it’s just like New York City.It’s just like New York Town.
It’s just like New York City.And it’s just like New York,
Just like New York, just like New York Town.
Your bag lady mama and trash can meals,
Cardboard apartment with newspaper seals,
Grand canyon alleyway and dust bowl stare,
Parched cracked lips and greasy matted hair.
Refrain
A barking dog and a chain link fence.
Your neighbor speaks, and it doesn’t make sense.
Limousines cruise along a back street.
Money talks when you can’t afford to eat.
Refrain
One More Night
by Charles Blackburn
We’re wrong for each other. We both got new lovers.
In my heart, I know we’re through. But with your sexy ways,I’d trade all my days for one more night with you.
Now, I know you think I’m only feelin’ sad and lonely.
Give credit where credit is due. It won’t disrupt God’s plan.Honey, lemme die a happy man. Gimme one more night with you.
One more night. One more night. One more night.
What harm would it do? One more night by fire light.
Gimme one more night with you.Now it ain’t against the law if we rub each other raw
And do it till we’re black and blue. How many ways can we go?Let’s put it on video. Gimme one more night with you.
Refrain
I know you think I’m only feelin’ sad and lonely.
Give credit where credit is due. It won’t disrupt God’s plan.Honey, lemme die a happy man. Gimme one more night with you.
Refrain
Friendly Fire
by Spence Foscue
Cousin Jimmy took me riding on the back of his John Deere
In the sun under Carolina skies so clear.
We worked tobacco all summer long.
It seemed like nothing could ever go wrong.
We packed the barns ’til they sagged with the weight.
Washed gum off our hands while the evenings grew late.
Jimmy played an old guitar, and I would blow my harp.
When it rained, we’d sit up under a leaky old tarp.
That fall the letter came, and Jimmy walked kind of slow.
We knew the war was coming, and it was time for him to go.
Something about a fight in a place called Viet Nam.
Jimmy said “I got to go, so it don’t mean a damn.”
That spring my aunt Jean held the news in her hand.
The words were cold and plain but our hearts couldn’t understand.
Jimmy had been killed by something called friendly fire.
It was just a few lines on a Western Union wire.
Friendly fire. They call it friendly fire.
The years pass by and Jimmy’s face is harder to see.
But I still hear his guitar playing inside of me.
The fields ain’t plowed, and the weeds grow tall.
All I have left now is Jimmy’s name on that wall.
Friendly fire. They call it friendly fire.
Friendly fire. They call it friendly fire.
Another Level
by Tom Cole
We used to hang around and do stuff.
Talk about your problems.
At first I was interested,
But now I can’t stay awake.
Been a long time
But that’s OK.
It’s really too bad.
Prob’ly my fault.
I took it to another level.
We used to talk all the time.
Lots of things to talk about.
One night on the couch…
After that, I never called you.
We got too close.
I pulled way back
Made a big mistake.
It’s too late now…
We took it to another level.
Hey, how ya doin’?
Come by the house.
Don’t be a stranger.
Call me some time.
Hey, how ya doin’?
Come by the house.
Don’t be a stranger.
Call me some time…
We’ll take it to another level.
Another level…
Another level…
Rock 'n' Rye
by Steve Esthimer
When I was a little boy, and I ever got real sick,
My mama know what to do. She had a simple trick.
She’d get some rye whiskey and a little hard rock candy.
Mix ’em up so I could sip ’m up, ’til I felt fine and dandy.
She’d give me rock ’n’ rye. (Mix ’em both up.)
She’d give me rock ’n’ rye. (Put ’em in a cup.)
She’d give me rock ’n’ rye. (Sip it all night.)
It was rock candy and rye (Made me feel all right)
Now I’n not a little boy, I almost never get the flu.
But when I’m sick, I’ve got the cure. I know just what to do.
I use my mama’s recipe for the aches and pains and cough.
Just sip that amber liquid ’til the ailment wears right off.
Refrain
Now they say that prevention is better than the cure.
But if the ’scrip’s for rye whiskey, it’s a cure I can endure.
An apple a day will keep the doctor away.
So why not try a whiskey a day to keep your ills at bay?
Refrain
So now you know my secret to a life of happy health.
Prevention is easy now and doesn’t tax my wealth.
You don’t need a doctor, no drugs, no HMO.
Just a whiskey jar, a candy bag, and, man, you’re good to go.
Refrain
Bad Side of Your Love
by Spence Foscue
It’s late at night, and I’m sneaking into our house.
Creeping down the hall, quiet like a mouse.
Turn the knob slowly, fear is in my hand,
Wrapping around me like a tight wedding band.
Don’t wanna get on the bad side, don’t wanna get on the bad side,
Don’t wanna get on the bad side of your love.
There’s a fella on a motorcycle circling the block.
I’m ducking down low in the front seat, watching the clock.
When you gonna get home, baby, and turn on the light.
I’m out here gripping the wheel ’til my knuckles turn white.
Refrain
Call off your love, baby can’t you see. I can’t turn around; it might be gaining on me.
Don’t wanna get on the bad side of your love.
All my friends say I’m crazy waiting and hoping for you.
I’d get my palms read if I thought it would come true.
My mind is made up, but my heart is a mess.
Get out the bullwhip, baby, I want to confess.
Refrain
Swing That Possum
by Steve Esthimer
Fell outa bed about quarter past five.
My wife was asleep, I felt more dead than alive.
But I went to the door, let the dogs in the yard.
All for a joke, make me hoist with my petard.
I had to swing that possum. I had to swing that possum.
I had to swing that possum, ’Cause I didn’t want to lose my arm.
See I’m a practical joker, and I just couldn’t wait.
If I got to work early, it would work out great.
Get there at six and lay out the props.
My buddies would think the place was crawlin’ with cops.
Refrain
So I was standin’ in the kitchen, I didn’t have long.
When the dogs started barkin’, I knew somethin’s wrong.
I had to get out there, there was no time to lose.
But I wasn’t dressed, no nothin’, no shoes.
Refrain
Now I’m out in the yard with the dogs and I’m cussin’.
They’ve got something cornered, and I see it’s a possum.
“Get back!”, I’m yellin’, but the dogs want him dead.
That’s when I grabbed that possum, pulled him over my head.
Refrain
The dogs go berserk, and they start to yelp.
I’m naked, it’s cold, and I need some help.
I run for the fence to let the possum go free,
But he grabs my hand, and that’s when I see…
Refrain
Now I’m yellin’ and swingin’ and he let’s go of my hand.
Dogs think it’s a game; it musta seemed so grand.
They jump on my legs, up my left and my right.
That’s when my neighbor turns on his back porch light.
And sees me swing that possum. Sees me swing that possum.
Sees me swing that possum, and then he goes to call the cops.
Quiero Mas Dinero
by Tom Cole
Yo soy trabajando.
They pay me Saturday.
Me pagarse buen dinero.
I get my take-home pay.
Then I give it to the landlord.
I give it to the bank.
I give it to the Mastercard.
I put it in the tank.
Quiero mas dinero.
You say “Porque?”
Quiero mas dinero.
So I can give it all away.
I give it to the PTA.
I pay the grocery bill.
I give it to the Toys R Us
To give my kids a thrill.
To keep me out of trouble,
I give the rest to my wife.
She says she’ll keep it safe for me.
I’ll see it in the afterlife.
Refrain
I give it to the Blue Cross.
I give it to the Red Cross.
I give it to the Good Hands.
I give it to the pension plan.
I give it to Sierra Club.
I give it to the Habitat.
I put it in the lottery.
Got no dinero left after that.
Quiero mas dinero.
You say “Porque?”
Quiero mas dinero.
So I can give it all away.