If you see me walkin' down the line
With my fav'right honky tonk in mind,
Well, I'll be here around suppertime
With my can of dinner and a bunch of fine.

Beer drinkers and hell raisers, yeah.
Uh-huh-huh, baby, don't you want to come with me?

The crowd gets loud when the band gets right,
Steel guitar cryin' through the night.
Yeah, try'n to cover up the corner fight
But everything cool 'cause they's just tight.

Beer drinkers and hell raisers, yeah.
Huh, baby, don't you want to come with me?
Ah, play it boy.

The joint was jumpin' like a cat on hot tin.
Lord, I thought the floor was gonna give in.
Soundin' a lot like a House Congressional
'cause we're experimental and professional.

Beer drinkers, hell raisers, yeah.
Well, baby, don't you want to come with me?

Copyright: BMG Rights Management
Writer(s): Billy Gibbons, Frank Beard, Joe Hill