It's Tuesday and I already hit the bottle   I can't even fall in love at happy hour   I think I'll go home now and dream about the nightmares that could be   Like all my friends turning into my enemies, yeah      You're good at pushing me out   You're good at pushing me out   You're good at pushing me out   You're good at pushing me      Late that night I am awakened by a banshee's cry   And I am much too scared to get a drink   I see the rusty swingset blow from generations long ago   Under moonlight the plow is stained by the power of your name      You're good at pushing me out   You're good at pushing me out   You're good at pushing me out      And the farmer's daughter raises hell   When I try to kiss her   Screaming daddies, now I run   Here's to sickle swinging fun      You're good at pushing me out   You're good at pushing me out   You're good at pushing me      You're good at pushing me out   You're good at pushing me out   You're good at pushing me out   You're good at pushing me