late weekend night and i'm at the bojar grilli got decisions to be made between lager and alewhen through the kitchen door come the dancing girlthen everything on the menu matteredoh the thoughts in my headoh if she knewi hope she'll nod at this drunken bar slob'cause i'm ready, willing and ableyes i'm ready, willing and ableover to the jukebox i staggeredfor a love song to scatter my body before herdidn't have change and i lost my damn brainsso i started humming in-a-godda-da-vidai'll pay the bar tab and even the caboff to the hotel we'll wallow