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Written by Paul Andrews
Recorded, produced and mixed by Brad Jones at Alex the Great, Nashville, USA.
lyrics
Saturday night no fever on the dance floor all my friends are jumping through the trapdoor.
With their hearts full of expectations but vacant stares and no coordination.
Nothing but sugar in my veins. Clip on ties, black Chucks, discount chains.
Saturday night, cabs heading for the suburbs, empty cages searching for a new bird.
Boys buying drinks for girls with no intention of going anywhere near home with them.
Every silver lining has a cloud. I want to drink until I drown.
I’m in the hurricane’s eye, where everything feels numb.
If I don’t make it alive, make sure you get some.
Solo
If I get picked in a fight I’m gonna lose some blood.
If I get shown the light, I’m gonna grab some.
Saturday night I want someone to drug me. Ten child stars grown up who are ugly.
Every taste is sour like a lemon, kill me quick if I’m here in the a.m.
I saw her out with her new guy. He’s got front teeth like Scrabble tiles.
Saturday night, night, night, night, night, night, night, night
Saturday night, night, night, night, night, night, night, night
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