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

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