Birthday Boy Lyrics - Big To-do - Drive By Truckers

Which one's the birthday boy? 

(She said) I ain't got all night 

What'd your momma name you? 

You can call me what you like 

Every skin is a mystery 

Gotta make it hard somehow 

Sit your narrow ass down, hotshot 

I'll solve yours right now 

Got a girlfriend, don't you, boy? 

Nervous hands can't lie 

Married men don't ask how much 

Single ones ain't buying 

One day you've got everything 

Next day it's all broke 

Let Miss Trixie sit up front 

Let her wipe your nose 

Working for the money like you got eight hands 

Flat on your back under a mean old man 

Just thinking happy thoughts and breathing deep 

Between your momma's drive and daddy's belt 

It don't take smarts to learn to tune out what hurts more than helps 

The pretty girls from the smallest towns 

Get remembered like storms and droughts 

That old men talk about for years to come 

I guess that's why they give us names 

So a few old men can say 

They saw us rain when we were young 

Which one's the birthday boy? 

(She said) I ain't got all night 

What'd your momma name you? 

You can call me what you like