"Shit Shots Count" lyrics - DRIVE-BY TRUCKERS

Put your cigarette out and put your hat back on, don't mix up which is which
They don't pay you enough to work, they don't pay me enough to bitch
The boss ain't as smart as he'd like to be but he ain't nearly as dumb as you think
He just wants evolution on budget with the schedule you keep

Swervin' four lanes movin' like blood through an old man's dyin' heart
Nothing but time to keep hope alive through the speed of a string guitar
He bought in young and I have no doubt, he's gonna cash out with a winning deal
Trophy tailed wife's takin' boner pill rides for the price of a happy meal

Shit shots count, if the table's tilted
Just pay the man who levels the floor
Pride is what you charge a proud man for having
Shame is what you sell to a whore
Meat's just meat and it's all born dyin'
Some is tender and some is tough
Somebody's gotta mop up and eat one
Somebody's gotta mop up the blood

High ground ain't high enough to kill you quick, it's the fall
Idealistically speaking it sounds like you ain't listenin' at all
Friday night britches are you ever be there till the fighting you on Monday's gone?
One more drag, tuck your hair in your hat
Don't act so surprised, and try not to look so long

Shit shots count, if the table's tilted
Just pay the man who levels the floor
Pride is what you charge a proud man for having
Shame is what you sell to a whore
Meat's just meat and it's all born dyin'
Some is tender and some is tough
Somebody's gotta mop up and eat one
Somebody's gotta mop up the blood