It's Tuesday and I already hit the bottle
I can't even fall in love at happy hour
I think I'll go home now and dream about the nightmares that could be
Like all my friends turning into my enemies, yeah
You're good at pushing me out
You're good at pushing me out
You're good at pushing me out
You're good at pushing me
Late that night I am awakened by a banshee's cry
And I am much too scared to get a drink
I see the rusty swingset blow from generations long ago
Under moonlight the plow is stained by the power of your name
You're good at pushing me out
You're good at pushing me out
You're good at pushing me out
And the farmer's daughter raises hell
When I try to kiss her
Screaming daddies, now I run
Here's to sickle swinging fun
You're good at pushing me out
You're good at pushing me out
You're good at pushing me
You're good at pushing me out
You're good at pushing me out
You're good at pushing me out
You're good at pushing me