Sammy Kershaw - Every Third Monday lyrics

rate me

He drives to Charlotte, every third Monday,

And checks into the Twelve Oaks Motel.

He calls it business, and he calls the number

Of a woman he knows all too well.

Every third Monday when his wife packs his suitcase

He looks her straight in the eye.

Every third Monday he finds a new way

To tell her that same old lie.

Back home in Atlanta, in a cafe for lovers

She slips off her gold wedding ring

To a stranger in a back booth, she whispers I'd love to

Two can play at this old cheatin' game.

Every third Monday, she packs his suitcase

She looks him straight in the eye

Every third Monday, she finds a new way

To tell him that same old lie.

Every third Monday, he finds a new way

To tell her that same old lie...