Blues on a Saturday Night

Came creeping through his front door
Sound of a guitar moan
Picking at some scabs and wounds
The sound of being alone
Sure enough it’s Saturday
I know he’s getting tight
Guitar’s preaching out the truth, Blues on a Saturday night
Guitar’s preaching out the truth, Blues on a Saturday night

He had a girl named Boo Boo
Bragged that she was his squeeze
He might have believed that
But Boo Boo did what she please
Caught her out running
Like to lost his mind
Buried him in misery, Blues on a Saturday night
Buried him in misery, Blues on a Saturday night

He knows an afterhours club
Upstairs, smoke filled room
People do the slow grind
He has a drink or two
Feels best back in his own crib
His music fits him right
Guitar preaching out the truth, Blues on a Saturday night
Guitar preaching out the truth, Blues on a Saturday night