Thursday Crew at Floyd’s

[Verse 1]
Neon hum on a cardboard sign
Door squeaks open
Same old time
Sam’s got a rag and a crooked grin
Says “You’re late
Boys
Get on in” (hey!)
Tony’s Coors in a sweating glass
Raises one for the working class
Bryan’s outside with Luann again
Sharing one smoke
Talking big plans
[Chorus]
It’s the Thursday crew at Floyd’s
Same old noise
Same old boys
Laugh lines deeper than the tab they owe
From the first pour ‘til it’s time to close
If you’re looking for us
You know where we’ll be
At Floyd’s
Past midnight
Table by the TV
[Verse 2]
Aaron’s chasing luck and cards
Tells tall tales
Buys one more round
Makers mark on a napkin map
Swears he’s one hand from turning it around (oh yeah)
Larry swings from the ladies tees
Brags all night about that “easy three”
Scott swears he’s “dialed in” too
Then four-putts out on hole eighteen
All blue
[Chorus]
It’s the Thursday crew at Floyd’s
Same old noise
Same old boys
Laugh lines deeper than the tab they owe
From the first pour ‘til it’s time to close
If you’re looking for us
You know where we’ll be
At Floyd’s
Past midnight
Table by the TV
[Bridge]
Some folks got church
Some got fame
We just got this hole-in-the-wall name
Week goes hard
World spins mean
But here we’re kings on our ripped barstool thrones (woah)
[Chorus]
It’s the Thursday crew at Floyd’s
Same old noise
Same old boys
Stories louder than the songs we know
From the first pour ‘til it’s time to go
If you’re looking for us
You know where we’ll be
At Floyd’s
Past midnight
Saving you a seat

Rowdy country-rock bar jam, mid-tempo stomp with twangy electric guitar, upright piano fills, and male vocals; verses keep it loose over a swinging backbeat, chorus explodes with gang shouts and stacked harmonies, bridge drops to half-time drum feel with barroom crowd noise and a singalong payoff