Lyrics

Our drinks smelled just like kerosene
The guys and I had two
They bragged of boring business deals
Then I saw what I should do

I went back to the office
Told the people there good luck
Ran my necktie through the shredder
Then I headed for my truck

It's a two-martini life
When six-pack's right for me
An office was my prison cell
'til my pickup set me free
My pickup set me free

I drove out to the country
To breath the fresh night air
No accountant could count all those stars
Though it's not like one would care

Built a fire with my business suits
And my fine Italian shoes
The corporate world is good for some
But it's not the path I choose

It's a two-martini life
When a six-pack's right for me
An office was my prison cell
'til my pickup set me free
My pickup set me free

May God bless the middle managers
I give thanks that I'm not one
They've got ulcers, deadlines, cubicles
And they never see the sun
No, they never see the sun

It's a two-martini life
When a six-pack's right for me
An office was my prison cell
'til my pickup set me free
My pickup set me free