Text: John Michael Mongomery. Letters From Home. Goes Good With Beer.

Flat tire on the interstate;
Too many nights of workin' too late.
Had a run in with an old memory.
No, it ain't been the best of weeks.

But it goes good with beer and the Friday night atmosphere.
Of this cross-town bar where the cars all get steered to.
And it goes hand-and-hand with my crazy buddies and this three-piece band,
And the pretty girls and the games we play, and the smoke and mirrors:
Yeah, troubles come, but they go good with beer.
Yeah, it does, yeah.

Bring all your debts and all your bills;
Load up your mountains and your molehills.
Come as you ain't or as you are,
An' don't forget that broken heart,

Oh, it goes good with beer and the Friday night atmosphere.
Of this cross-town bar where the cars all get steered to.
And it goes hand-and-hand with my crazy buddies and this three-piece band,
An' the pretty girls and the games we play, and the smoke and mirrors:
Yeah, troubles come, but they go good with beer.
Yee haw, oh, yeah.

Bring all those stories you can share.
Just like the peanuts and the pretzels on the table there.

Yeah, it all goes good with beer and the Friday night atmosphere,
And the pretty girls and the games we play, and the smoke and mirrors:
Yeah, troubles come, but they go........

Good with beer and the Friday night atmosphere,
Of this cross-town bar where the cars all get steered to.
And they go hand-and-hand with my crazy buddies and this three-piece band,
An' the pretty girls and the games we play, and the smoke and mirrors.

Yeah, it all goes good with beer and the Friday night atmosphere,
Of this cross-town bar where the cars all get steered to.
And it goes hand-and-hand with my crazy buddies and this ten-piece band,
An' the pretty girls and the games we play, and the smoke and mirrors:
Yeah, troubles come, but they go good with beer.

Pass me them peanuts brother.