Small Town Saturday Night

Parker's making more money than he did at the mill
Since he got himself a girl with a script for pills
My, my, he's got the goods tonight
Mama always said he was a no good kid
Now she calls him up when she needs her fix
My, my, she's waitin' on him to stop by

Fake nails flickin' on an ashtray
Keepin' three-quarter time
Nowhere to be
Now it's payday
So she's gonna get real high
It's a small town Saturday night
Another small town Saturday night

Mary-Anne phones up Pastor Rick
Every time her husband goes on a business trip
Hey, hey, he's teachin' her how to pray
Come mornin' he'll be preachin' that the devil don't rest
While Mary-Anne sits in her Sunday best
Hey, hey, thank God it ain't judgement day

Fake nails on the Holy Bible
He pulls in the drive
She puts it down, pours a double
Then they close the blinds
It's a small town Saturday night
Another small town Saturday night

Coca-cola, whiskey neat
Percocet, methamphetamine
Overdrinkin', overeatin'
Two-timin', lyin', stealin', cheatin'
Call it sin, call it crime
But we're just tryna kill some time

On a small town Saturday night
Another small town Saturday night
It's a small town Saturday night
Call it wrong but don't it feel right
Oh, the small town Saturday night
Another small town Saturday night

(Small town Saturday night)
Oh my, my, my (another small town Saturday night)
My, my, my (small town Saturday night)
My, my, my (another small town Saturday night)



Credits
Writer(s): Mary Heather Hickman, Stefanie Bartlett
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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