Four On The Floor, Knock On The Door

It's Finally A Quarter To Eight And

Looks Like Everybody's Ready And Waiting



One Of The Guys, Little Beady Eyes

I Guess He's Feeling Bad 'cause He Can't Go

I Said "I'm Sorry Bud, You've Gotta Stay Home"



Friday's Gone And I'm Feeling Fine

Saturday's Been On My Mind

Sun Comes Up On Yellow Lines

Through The Gears And The Road Unwinds

Friday Night's Been Left Behind Me, Don't Remind Me

'Cause I Never Really Wanted To Be There

It Didn't Matter That I Was Living For Free There



Seventy-five, Down Skelly Drive

I Got A Funny Feeling I'm Falling And

I Think That Mother Nature Is Calling



Bike's Running Fine, Since 1969

I'd Run It Wide Open But I'd Hit A Rail

I Don't Really Want To Spend Another Night In Jail



Four On The Floor, Half Dozen More

Everybody Stayed Until Morning

Someone In The Back Room Is Snoring



Downstairs Outside, Still Black As Night

Sun Is Coming Up In An Hour Or Two

I'm Wide Awake And Wondering What To Do