Every dollar I make
Is a buck I owe
And a forty-hour week
Leaves ten to blow
But every game in this town
Is just a nickle and dime
And when the sun goes down
It feels like the last time
Down on the main drag
We ride the engine's open
If there's a fire inside
That's the one thing goin'
I've got the Mustang loaded
I've got a wrong to right
I got a little red bullet
Let's kill Saturday night
Knock it out of it's misery
Nail that coffin tight
High livin'
That's history
Let's kill Saturday night
Well the little man's lot
Is a prince's life
A prince with a lousy job
A prince with a workin' 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 poundin'
An' brother this town
Is gonna go down
A kickin' and shoutin'
I've got the Mustang loaded
I've got a wrong to right
I got a little red bullet
Let's kill Saturday night
Knock it out of it's misery
Nail that coffin tight
High livin'
That's history
Let's kill Saturday night
Hey
I've got the Mustang loaded
I've got a wrong to right
I got a little red bullet
Let's kill Saturday night
Knock it out of it's misery
Nail that coffin tight
High livin'
That's history
Let's kill Saturday night
Let's kill Saturday night
Writer(s): Robert William Fulks
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