It's Tuesday and I already hit the bottle I can't even fall in love at happy hour I think i'll go home now and dream About the nightmares that could be Like all my friends turning into my enemies
You're good at pushing me out You're good at pushing me out You're good at pushing me out You're good at pushing me out You're good at pushing me...
Late that night i am awakened by the banshee's cry And I am much too scared to get a drink I see the rusty swing set blow from generations long ago Under the moonlight the plow is stained by the power of your name
You're good at pushing me out You're good at pushing me out You're good at pushing me out You're good at pushing me out You're good at pushing me...
The farmer's daughter raises hell when i try to kiss her Screaming 'daddies' now i run Here's to sickle swinging fun