Another ten-to-two on a weekend night My voice is worn and my hands are right I been singing my songs all night long Telling these folks about things gone wrong I scream and cry and cuss and moan Echoes through the holler with a lonesome tone With a lonesome tone They think they know a thing or two about me But truth be told, there ain't much to see I'm just waiting on the boss to throw a few bills So I can fill up my tank and eat my fill Then I pack up a case and away I run Try to make it home 'fore the morning sun 'Fore the morning sun And I do the best trade for the rest of my days Despite the fact that it's short on pay 'Cause I ain't no good with hammers and nails And these songs save a fortune on shrinks and pills On shrinks and pills I do the best trade for the rest of my days Despite the fact that it's short on pay 'Cause I ain't no good with hammers and nails But these songs save a fortune on shrinks and pills On shrinks and pills I do the best trade for the rest of my days Despite the fact that it's short on pay 'Cause I ain't no good with hammers and nails But these songs save a fortune on shrinks and pills On shrinks and pills On shrinks and pills On shrinks and pills These songs save a fortune on shrinks and pills