CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : What’ll It Be*
It's 5:53 on Thanksgiving
Not one customer's walked through the door
But I'm still here, slingin' drinks for a living
I've never played piano before
I know this town like the back of my hand
But I'm not such a fan of the back of my hand
Cause if you look real close
At those little hairs and veins You're like
"Hands are sort of gross"
It's hard to explain
The point is:
Hey, West Covina
Why won't you let me break free?
Am I doomed to stay here
Pouring my high school friends' beers
For the rest of eternity?
Hey, West Covina
You know just where to find me
I'll never go far, so pull up to the bar
Hey, West Covina
What'll it be?
It's 5:55, I'm still singing
The big Turkey Day game's letting out
But no one's comin' here
Who am I kiddin'?
Hey, you sunburned MILFs
Give me a shout
Not one customer's walked through the door
But I'm still here, slingin' drinks for a living
I've never played piano before
I know this town like the back of my hand
But I'm not such a fan of the back of my hand
Cause if you look real close
At those little hairs and veins You're like
"Hands are sort of gross"
It's hard to explain
The point is:
Hey, West Covina
Why won't you let me break free?
Am I doomed to stay here
Pouring my high school friends' beers
For the rest of eternity?
Hey, West Covina
You know just where to find me
I'll never go far, so pull up to the bar
Hey, West Covina
What'll it be?
It's 5:55, I'm still singing
The big Turkey Day game's letting out
But no one's comin' here
Who am I kiddin'?
Hey, you sunburned MILFs
Give me a shout
