Well, I ain't the kind to sip on fancy wines
That high class sort of living ain't on my mind
Got no worries about what people say
You ain't gonna turn my skies from blue to gray
Chorus:
I might get up in the morning
I might sleep till the afternoon
I might howl at the moon all night
I might whistle a sad old tune
You can think just what you wanna think
And it ain't gonna make me blue
You might know everybody
But you don't know me
Well, the money I got in my pocket
Just a couple of dollars in change
I ain't worried about the New York Stock Exchange
Don't need no politician
Telln' me what to watch on my TV
Repeat Chorus
Well, people might try to tell me
Son, what you're doin' ain't right
You can't be playin' that guitar every night
But my daddy, he once told me, son
You gotta do it, if it feels good
If you die doin' what you love
Then you done what you should