Mad (featuring Marty Stuart, Mac Wiseman, and Duane Eddy)

I got about half high so I spent the whole weekend out
I got home Sunday morning
Tore up like a can o’ ****

There was a suitcase a’sittin’ on the steps
And I picked it up and ran and I ain’t a’been a’back home yet

Chorus: Mad, yeah she’s mad
A’ya talk about a doghouse
You shoulda heard the cussin’ I had
When she’s mad
That’s a dangerous game
In the obituary column
they’ve already printed my name

She’s five foot three and weighs about a hundred and eight
She’s the kind o’ gal that don’t believe in man a’makin mistakes
She’s sweet and she’s nice
But when she gets mad she’s got a voice that’ll cut through ice

Chorus

She’s got eyes like a kitten and she watches every move I make
An alarm clock mind that’s a’ringing every time I’m late
Well I’m sorry and I’m all alone
But I guess I’ll have to stick it out cause it just ain’t safe to go home.

Chorus