I get up like a rocket in a hurricane
Then it's off to work like a runaway train
Drivin' them nails, draggin' my tail
It don't take much to follow my trail, follow my trail
Back and forth in a game of pickle
I ain't nothing but the monkey in the middle

Walking that sideshow tight rope making ends meet
That organ grinder be in a bind without me
In that circus they work us like a bunch of borrowed mules
But every time that music plays I know what to do

Every Friday night at the honky tonk
Me and my baby make that dive jump
When our buckles bump, I tell you what
That girl is packing some powerful stuff, powerful stuff
And when we get home she plays me like a fiddle
Makin' sweet music with the monkey in the middle

Walking that sideshow tightrope, makin' ends meet
That organ grinder be in a bind without me
In that circus they work us like a bunch of borrowed mules
But every time that music plays sugar I know what to do

And then.
I get up like a rocket in a hurricane
Then it's off to work like a runaway train
Drivin' them nails, draggin' my tail
It don't take much to follow my trail, follow my trail
Back and forth in a game of pickle
I ain't nothing but the monkey in the middle

Writer : ATKINS, RODNEY A. / GOWAN, BRIAN E. / HEWITT, OWEN T.
Copyright : Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., MIKE CURB MUSIC