Strike Up The Band (Live)

Living off the friends we made

Never ever getting paid

Kicking a** and paying dues

Lose our mind in self abuse

Loving ladies by the score

Waking up and wanting more

I hope my Mama understands

When I strike up the band

Well I spit out my anger as the sweat do fly

Fifteen years of paying dues just to get me by

Now the barkeeps would pay us by the crowds we bring

But those son-of-b**ches never paid us one damn thing

And my poor Daddy, he just don't understand

It's balls out tonight, watch the sh*t hit the fan

When we strike up the band

Now those drop dead ladies line the very first row

I do believe I'd like to spend some time after the show

Now them years gone by, the barkeeps pay in cash

And them lovely ladies feed me an earful of trash

And my old lady, she just don't understand

Why those floozies got their hands on her man

And my poor Daddy, he still don't understand

Why it's balls out tonight watch the sh*t hit the fan

Give it all that we can, we don't give a good damn

When we strike up the band

Living like a gypsy,

an air conditioned hippie

Who's never seen the light of day

Rode dog and cowboy

Don't know how, boy

I ever lived this long this way, no, no, said

And my poor Daddy, he still don't understand

Why it's balls out tonight watch the sh*t hit the fan

Give it all that we can, we don't give a good damn

When we strike up the band