| Twenty-five minutes past quitting time |
| Seven of us crammed into that truck of mine |
| Paying no attention to them highway signs |
| Doing ninety miles an hour toward the county line |
| Quick sack, twelve pack, back again |
| It’s a B-double E-double R U N? |
| My buddies and their babies letting down their hair |
| As long as we’re together is don’t matter where |
| Ain’t got a lot of money but we just don’t care |
| Knowing half the fun is in the getting there |
| Aztec, long necks, paychecks spent |
| Oh, it’s a B-double E-double R U N? |
| I can’t stop thinking |
| What the hell they were drinking |
| Whan they made this county dry |
| I got a week-long thirst |
| And to make it worse |
| Lord, it’s my turn to drive |
| Laughing and bragging and a' carrying on |
| We loaded up the wagons and we headed home |
| I guess half a dozen cases doesn’t last that long |
| Come tomorrow morning it’ll be all gone |
| Them, it’s turn around, leave town, sounds again |
| Like a B-double E-double R U N? |