Stopping on the red
You're going on the green
Tonight'll be like nothing
You've ever seen
You're barreling down the boulevard
Looking for the heart of Saturday night

Tell me is the Şifre of the poolballs, neon buzzin
Telephone's ringing; it's your second cousin
Is it the barmaid that's smiling from the corner of her eye
Magic of the melancholy tear in your eye

Makes it kind of quiver down in the core
You're dreaming of them Saturdays that came before
Now you're stumbling
You're stumbling onto the heart of Saturday night
Now you're stumbling