Well it's a Saturday night down in Dixie,
Shots full of rhythm and whiskey,
And what do ya know it's time to play,
Grab your boots and jump off the tour bus,
There's a rowdy crowd waiting on us,
Somebody show me to the stage,
Give me the mic and put me in the spot light,
'Cause everybody came here to get right,
And them blue collar boys just got paid
We'll be rockin till the break of day,
Then flyin' on down the highway
We came to give you more for your money,
Some southern rock and some outlaw country,
And don't forget about my solid gold.
That ol hundred round of crown has been took in,
I got music like Momma's home cookin,
Lord it just feels good in your soul.
So turn it on and crank it up to twelve son,
We're gonna kick like daddy's old pump gun
We're getting paid then we're gettin on down the road,
We'll be rockin till the break of day,
Then flyin on down the highway
We'll be rockin till the break of day,
We'll be rockin till the break of day,
Then flying on down the highway
Hey now mister bartender
a roughneck don't need a blender
Son pop a top on something cold
And grab a few for me and the fella's
And that gal in the sunshine yellow
With a thousand eyes that are out of control,
And if she needs to get her another
Just later on down a dirt road brother
I'm gonna take her to a spot that nobody knows
Rock with her to the break of day,
Then fly on down the highway
We'll be rockin till the break of day
We'll be rockin till the break of day,
Then flyin on down the highway.