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'm 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
you're good at pushing me

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 x2
you're good at pushing me
you're good at pushing me out x3
you're good at pushing me