That same old song (woah oh) Ride with us on Friday night See if we don't burn it up See if we ain't crankin' Hank Sippin' on a little somethin' strong I hear there's folks Tired of us talking about dirt roads Tailgates, tan lines and corn rows It sounds

It was my senior year I just turned eighteen I was a Friday night hero, with division one dreams I had an offer on the table A four year ride 'Til that fourth and two and twenty four dive I left on a stretcher, wound up on a crutch Walked on that next