I Don’t Remember Saturday

Woke up with gravel in my boots,

Truck’s in a ditch and my shirt says “I love moose.”

Somebody drew a mustache on my face,

And there’s glitter in places it shouldn’t be placed.

There’s a goat in the kitchen, a bra on the fan,

A tattoo on my leg that says “Tammy for Stan.”

Phone says I Venmo’d a marching band,

And the group text just says: “Bro… you still banned?”

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🎶 I don’t remember Saturday, but Saturday remembers me

There’s a dent in the bar and a boot in a tree

My liver’s still cryin’ and the neighbors agree

That I made some new enemies (and friends, probably)

So if I kissed your sister or wrecked your bouquet—

My bad… I don’t remember Saturday. 🎶

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They said I climbed on the jukebox twice,

Yelled “Yeehaw, baby!” and proposed to the ice.

I played beer pong with a state trooper’s wife,

And crowd-surfed out of Applebee’s by nine.

There’s a TikTok of me line dancin’ in flames,

Rode a lawnmower through a pet parade.

Now my ex just texted, “You still insane?”

And I replied with a smiley and the goat’s name. 🐐

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🎶 I don’t remember Saturday, but the bruises tell the tale

Got kicked outta church and banned from the Shell

Sang Garth in the street with a traffic cone mic

While a guy named Steve tried to start a fight

So if I owe you beer or a heartfelt bouquet—

I’m sorry… I don’t remember Saturday 🎶

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But somewhere between that shot of Fireball

And yelling “Mericaaaa!” off the mall

I found freedom… and maybe a misdemeanor…

(But that’s for Monday me to figure out, y’all.)

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🎶 I don’t remember Saturday, but Saturday damn sure knew

That when the beer flows free and the truth shines through

You might lose a fight, a shoe, or your pride

But you’ll gain a story ‘til the day you die

So if I showed my ass or got carried away—

Hell yeah… I don’t remember Saturday 🎶

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“Turn it up, boys! Wait—whose goat is that?”

“Dibs on the traffic cone!”