Love Like This - Drive-By Truckers

Coming home with a bottle, trying not to break the seal

This Friday evening traffic’s about enough to break a man’s will

And I can’t wait to see you and see how your week has gone

And tear into Old No.7 and make love till dawn

But your Mama she’ll be calling, if she ain’t knocking on the door

And it won’t take me long to remember what I brought that bottle home for

And we’ll all get to fighting, just like we always do

And by Saturday morning, I’ll be singing these blues

Last night I slept with my boots on again

One cut on my forehead and one my chin

On the hard old floor with nothin to cover up with

You got me real good, girl, and I must admit

You pack purty mean punch for such a pretty little dish

And it’s a shame to know most folks don’t ever know love like this

Come Monday morning, I’ll be sore to a fare-thee-well

Cussin' God and America, wishing them both just to send me off to hell

But the boss man don’t want no excuses when it comes time to get on the clock

And without that paycheck, I’d lose the rest of what sweet love I got

Last night I slept with my boots on again

One cut on my forehead and one my chin

On the hard old floor with nothin to cover up with

You got me real good, girl, and I must admit

You pack purty mean punch for such a pretty little dish

And it’s a shame to know most folks don’t ever know love like this

Music by Drive-by Truckers