Sutton Brothers
Your boss is pissed
Says you’ve got to work late
You phone the wife, dinner will have to wait
You finally get out, but the freeway’s jammed
You sit starin’ at the backs of your hands
It’s hot and sticky, and just gettin’ worse
Your teeth are grinding through your muffled curse
You’re seeing red, got to do something fast
Your head is smokin’
Evokin, strokin’, stokin’ your mean streak
Finally the weekend, a chance to unwind Time to get a few things off of your mind Your favourite waterhole's the place to relax But the government doubled the liquor tax Some jerkoff's lookin' to start a scrap Dumps his highball right into your lap You turn to face him, the look says it all He's gonna taste it The nasty, ugly side of your mean streak
What ever happened To that guy we once knew? How did he turn into a jerk like you? That other guy seemed to have some real class This one is just concerned with kickin' ass We used to have a friend to love and trust Now we're worried 'bout whose chops he'll bust Where is that guy we used to know? We want him back We're getting sick and tired of your mean streak
Mel Little | Organ |
Tim Nunn | Guitar |
Tom Sutton | Bass, guitar |
Charlie Sutton | Drums |
Al Sutton | Lead vocal, blues harp |