Whiskey, Pool & Quittin’ Time

Another Monday morning, draggin’ my boots

Boss man's barking, same worn-out suits

Clock keeps tickin', but it's movin' slow

Shovel my pride just to earn my dough

But there’s a neon light callin’ my name

A barstool salvation, a runaway train

I hate my job, but I love that bar

Where the whiskey’s cheap and the jukebox scars

Them felt-top tables ease my mind

Sinkin’ eight-balls, losin' time

Punch that clock just to make it through

‘Cause quittin' time means whiskey, pool… and you

Sweat on my back, grease on my hands

Dreams get buried in the company plans

They preach hard work, but it’s all the same

Another broke man in the rich man’s game

But I know where the real folks go

Where the lies stay outside, and the bourbon flows

I hate my job, but I love that bar

Where the whiskey’s cheap and the jukebox scars

Them felt-top tables ease my mind

Sinkin’ eight-balls, losin' time

Punch that clock just to make it through

‘Cause quittin' time means whiskey, pool… and you

Ain't no corner office, but that corner stool

Where the smoke hangs thick and the beers stay cool

Might not be rich, but I got my crew

And a crooked little stick, and a table or two

I hate my job, but I love that bar

Where the whiskey’s cheap and the jukebox scars

Them felt-top tables ease my mind

Sinkin’ eight-balls, losin' time

Punch that clock just to make it through

‘Cause quittin' time means whiskey, pool… and you

Yeah, quittin' time means whiskey, pool… and you