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This week was hard, it's getting dark
The weeds are hot in my front yard
But it's Friday night and I don't really care
The moon is out, the crickets loud
A train went by, but it's gone now
So up and down the street, I sit and stare
You could say there's not much here for us
Nothing but a pile of dirt and dust
But, baby
We could string the stars over these corn stalks
We could turn your truck into an old jukebox
Just take my hand and baby, we could fall
Let's turn this open field into an old dance hall
(Do do do, do do do
Do do do, do do
Do do do, do do do
Do do do)
No neon signs, no bar on fire
