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I feel so good come payday |
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I think of all the things I'm gonna |
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Buy when I pick up my pay |
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Don't you know, but then they hand me |
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That little brown envelope |
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I peep inside, Lord I lose all hope |
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'Cause from those total wages earned |
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Down to that net amount that's due |
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I feel the painful sense of loss between the two |
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There goes that bracelet for her arm |
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There goes that new fence for my farm |
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There goes that brand new Pontiac |
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There goes the shirt right off my back |
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You can dream about a honeymoon for two |
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You can dream but that's about all you can do |
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'Cause by the time old Uncle Sam gets through with you |
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You can buy her a pair of hose |
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A little powder for her nose |
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And take her down to Sloppy Joe's for beer |
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And stew them are the facts after tax |
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You can dream about vacation in the sun |
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You can dream but you can't never have you one |
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'Cause by the time your good old Uncle Sam gets done |
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You've got just enough for gas |
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To see them city limits pass |
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And if you get back home fourth class |
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I'd say you won |
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There goes that bracelet for her arm |
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There goes that new fence for my farm |
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Send back that short wave radio cancel that trip to Mexico |
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Forget that brand new Pontiac |
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There goes the shirt right off my back |
