Written by Melvin Knoblett
| Intro | /Bb/// | F/ | Dm/ | Gm/ | C7/ | F/ | C7 | stop |
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| There is a p | lace | , 'bout f | ive miles out of t | own |
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| Where the B | oatman cooks every W | ednesday might so you m | ight want to stick a | round. |
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| Well you can t | ell they like to p | arty, from the p | ictures on the w | all. |
| A# | F | Dm | Gm | C7 | F | |
| So, if you n | eed a friend, you better c | ome on i | n Com | e on let's h | ave a b | all. |
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| Well | I was a little leer | y, the f | irst time I came i | n. |
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| But I rec | ognized the p | ickup truck from a n | eighbor and a f | riend. |
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| So I s | at down on that b | arstool - I was a s | tranger is this p | lace. |
| A# | F | Dm | Gm | C7 | F | |
| But, by the t | ime I left I knew e | veryo | ne by the s | mile u | pon their f | ace. |
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| Instrumental | /Bb/// | F/ | Dm/ | Gm/ | C7/ | F/ | C7 | stop |
| F | F7 | A# | F | |
| Well | I was a feelin' c | razy when I h | eaded for that b | ar. |
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| I grabbed my s | ix string, my g | uitar strap, and I | put 'em in my c | ar. |
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| Ole B | illy, Jim and D | ana, they g | rabbed me by the h | and. |
| A# | F | Dm | Gm | C7 | F | |
| They said well c | ome on in and let the f | un be | gin you're a m | ember of the shit | house | band. |
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| C7 | F | A# | F | C | F | |
| I said the folks around h | ere, they like it that w | ay. |