Release Date: 1998 - Soul Dump Records
Re-released by New West Records on January 25, 2005


1. Wife Beater
2. Demonic Possession
3. The Tough Sell
4. The Living Bubba
5. Late for Church
6. Panties in Your Purse
7. Why Henry Drinks
8. 18 Wheels of Love
9. Steve McQueen
10. Buttholeville
11. Sandwiches for the Road


Wife Beater

You met him at the dance hall
You only saw his charms
You said he really swept you off your feet
Then one night he's drinking
and jealousy enraged
He knocked out two of your front teeth

so you came over to hide out at my place
I guess I should have killed him there and then
but you begged me not to
now you say he's changed
and you're gonna go back to him

Don't give me that bull about how it's for the children
A man like that could never be a dad
What happens when he kills you?
What will they do then?
Sometimes you ought to ask yourself that

Don't go back to him he's a wife beater
You'd be better off with this potato eater
You say he's changed, don't be a fool
A man like that's no good for you
A man like that's no good for you

lyrics by Patterson Hood
music by Drive-by Truckers (Cooley, Hood, Howell, Lane, Neff)
© 1998 Soul Dump Music

written on Elvis' birthday 1/8/97 at the grocery store
dedicated with love to the great Tammy Wynette, Alabama Music Hall of Fame inductee

Demonic Possession

Demonic Possession
His court's in session
I sign my confession
Demonic Possession

It was raining on the day she told me
them things that fella sold me
Mama wasn't thee to scold me
No prison or cell could hold me
I still recall the date
I'z probably about eight
when I sealed my fate
You honor I rightly state
(repete chorus)

Suddenly I had a foot hold
I became such a butthole
I don't need nobody consoling me
No one but the devil controlling me

I can kick ass and talk backward
I hang out with a whole bunch of slackers
and I know I can get some help from him
I listen to a lot of Led Zeppelin
(repete chorus)

I got so much money I don't need smarts
My records are flying to the top of the charts
and I'm eating in all those fancy restaurants
and Hanging out with Sam Phillips
and I owe it all to him
Oh, the shape I'm in
The devil says the only thing that's buggin him
is Hell's filling up with Republicans
(repeat chorus twice)

lyrics by Patterson Hood
music by Drive-by Truckers (Cooley, Hood, Howell, Lane, Neff, Sell)
© 1998 Soul Dump Music
written in august 1996 during G.O.P. convention

recorded july 21, 1997

The Tough Sell

"She's a beaute, yes sir she is" said EZ DAN, fifty five, a bad age,
smelling of Brute from Fabrege' and sweat
EZ DAN don't bathe a lot these days (and why the hell should he anyway?)
"She's got a few miles on her, but then again, who don't?"
he said with a slight chuckle, the recent Binaca Blast still lingering on his breath,
"and besides, them's highway miles"

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other
it certainly wasn't the car of my dreams, but the price was right
and EZ DAN assured me the mid 70's were a particularly nice period
for Chrysler products in general
"and this one is a Volare'"
and besides, finally having an eight-track means I can play
all them tapes I ain't been able to listen to since high-school

so we stuffed EZ DAN's body in the trunk and hauled ass out of town
but somewhere just past the middle of nowhere the fuel pump blew
and the oil pump too, and the piston rods hurled straight through the engine block
dropping oil, gasoline, water, and anti-freeze onto the Alabama red clay below

Ain't that a bitch?
I ain't never been lucky with love

lyrics by Patterson Hood
music by Drive-by Truckers (Cooley, Hood, Howell, Lane, Neff, and Sell)
©1998 Soul Dump Music
written spring 96 recorded 7/21/97
dedicated to the Quadrajets 187 / 10-4

The Living Bubba

I wake up tired and I wake up pissed
wonder how I ended up like this
I wonder why things happen like they do
but I don't wonder long cuz I got a show to do

I'm sick at my stomach from the A.Z.T.
Broke at my bank cuz that shit ain't free
but I'm here to stay (at least another week or two)
I can't die now cuz I got another show to do

Don't give me no pity don't give me no grief
Wit till I die for sympathy
Just help me with this amp and a guitar or two
I can't die now cuz I got another show to do

Don't give me no preachin' no self servin'
I ain't no angel but nobody's deserving
I can dance on my own grave, Thank You!
but I can't die now cuz I got another show...

Some people keep saying I can't last long
but I got my bands I got my songs,
liquor, beer, and nicotine to help me along
and I'm drunk and stubborn as they come
chain smoking, guitar picking, til I'm gone

I ain't got no political agenda
Ain't got no message for the youth of America
'cept "Wear a rubber and be careful who you screw"
and come see me next Friday cuz I got another show...

Some people stop living long before they die
Work a dead end job just to scrape on by
but I keep living just to bend that note in two
and I can't die now cuz I got another show...

lyrics by Patterson Hood
music by Drive-by Truckers (Cooley, Hood, Howell, Lane, Neff)
©1998 Soul Dump Music

Late For Church

Late for church again
Never seem to be on time
Hear the bells as they peal through the holler
Doesn't sound like a friend of mine

A hundred eyes turn as I enter
Face burnin' as I walk past pews
I can tell they think I'm a sinner
Hear them whisper while I'm watching my shoes

Only seat left is right up front
I'm not a bit surprised
Back is soft but the seat is hard
Why can't they get it right?

Reverend Bob is pointin' his finger
Mom and Dad follow every last word
All this hollerin' makes me wonder
Does a whispered prayer get heard?

Reverend Bob is preachin' out thunder
Fire and brimstone pouring down
Me, I'm wondering what's for dinner
Waitin' for 12 o'clock to come round

Everybody's got their own Heaven
They all find it their own way

I am an angel

lyrics by Adam Howell/Patterson Hood
music by Drive-by Truckers
© 1998 Soul Dump Music (BMI)

Panties In Your Purse

Saw you standing in the hallway, red plastic cup, and one of those big long cigarettes
You asked me if I could play you some Dylan
I said "Dylan who?" you told me to kiss your ass
I apologized, but you could tell I didn't mean it by the way I rolled my eyes
and when you said it wasn't me it was you
somehow I knew you were gonna tell me why

Stuff was flying out of the window
falling and breaking on the pavement underneath
He's screaming at you, red faced and fuming
He'd come home early, parked his car way up the street
You had your stockings in your hand, panties in your purse
it was ten a.m. and all the neighbors heard
him calling you a whore and a tramp
you just stood there while your heels sank into the warm wet ground

He got a lawyer, you got a bottle
He got the children and you moved in with your mama
She fixes breakfast and lets you use her car
she don't care how late you call to tell her where you are
Ya'll still fight and she still nags you some
but somehow it's different now than when you were young
It's your own damn fault you been threw hell
for one reason or another, somehow she kinda blames herself

lyrics by Mike Cooley
music by Drive-by Truckers (Cooley, Hood, Howell, Lane, and Neff)
©1998 Soul Dump Music

Why Henry Drinks

Them stories that you tell me are so hard to swallow
You said "Go to hell" but I know you'd just follow
The future's closing in quicker than you think
and hanging with you I know why Henry drinks

Those obnoxious drunks downstairs are fighting and cussing
and twelve years of me and you don't add up to nothing
You say what's on your mind - tell it to your shrink
so he can know like me why Henry drinks

Just a few more hours till the sun comes back around
to tear each other down and drink another round
lost it on the way now I'm hating what we found
mendacity and grudge-fucks and pieces out of town

I drink half a case of beer on my way home from work
Daddy needs his medicine to keep his hands off Mama's throat
Baby, push a little harder cuz you got me on the brink
of spilling more than guts about why Henry drinks

Telling you so much about why Henry drinks

lyrics by Patterson Hood
music by Drive-by Truckers (Cooley, Hood, Howell, Lane, and Neff)
©1998 Soul Dump Music

18 Wheels Of Love

Mama ran off with a trucker
Mama ran off with a trucker
Mama ran off with a trucker
Peterbilt Peterbilt

He is making her give life another stab
They can see the world from way up in the cab

Mama ran off with a trucker...........
Peterbilt Peterbilt

She can quit her job and be his little bride
He can get a local route and stay home by her side
She can fix him roast beast and sweet potato pie
He can eat a lot of it cuz he's a big ole guy

They got married in Dollywood
(by a Porter Waggoner lookalike)
18 Wheels of Love

for Mom and Chester, on the occasion of their marriage, July 1994

lyrics by Patterson Hood
music by Drive-by Truckers
©1998 Soul Dump Music

Steve McQueen

Steve McQueen Steve McQueen
When I was a little boy I wanted to grow up to be
Steve McQueen Steve McQueen
The coolest doggone motherscratcher on the silver screen

I'd drive real fast everywhere no one would ever catch me
and I'd kick your ass if you pissed me off so be careful what you ask me
and I'd never have an empty bottle or an empty bed
and as cool as Paul Newman is I bet Steve could whup his head

Steve McQueen............................

Bullet was my favorite movie that I'd ever seen
I totaled my go-cart trying to imitate that chase scene
That Duster had six hubcaps, know what I mean
and I love the way they all flew off when it landed in that ravine

Steve McQueen............................

I really loved The Getaway back when I was eight
that pussy Alec Baldwin sucked in the remake
and speaking of pussy, I guess Steve got it all
He fucked Faye Dunaway and he fucked Ali McGraw

Steve McQueen Steve McQueen
When I was a little boy I wanted to grow up to be
Steve McQueen Steve McQueen
The coolest goddamn mothefucker on the silver screen
(suddenly the scene turns slow and somber, as a campfire harp plays in the background)
I went to see The Hunter on my first date
The Hunter was the last movie Steve McQueen lived to make
They took my drivers license when I was just sixteen
the year Mesothelioma killed Steve McQueen

lyrics by Patterson Hood
music by Drive-by Truckers (Cooley, Hood, Howell, Lane, Neff, Stacy)
©1998 Soul Dump Music
dedicated to my grandfather W. M. Patterson
(Mesothelioma is a rare cancer of the lining of the lung caused by exposure to asbestos. Its mortality rate is known to be extremely high.)


Tired of living in Buttholeville
Tired of my job and my wife Lucille
Tired of my kids Ronnie and Neil
Tired of my 68 Bonneville
Working down at Billy Bob's Bar and Grille
The food here tastes like the way I feel
There's a girl on the dance floor dressed to kill
She's the best looking woman in Buttholeville

One day I'm gonna get out of Buttholeville
Gonna reach right in Gonna grab the till
Buy a brand new hat and a Coupe deVille
lay a patch on the road that runs over the hill
There's a beach somewhere where the water's are still
Gonna lay in the sun till my skin peels
Drinking the best scotch whiskey, eating lobster and eel
and I'm never going back to Buttholeville

Never going, never going, never going never going back!

lyrics by Patterson Hood
music by Adam's House Cat (Cooley, Cahoon, Hood, Tremblay)
©1990 Cat House Music (ASCAP)
additional music by Drive-by Truckers (Cooley, Hood, Howell, Lane, Neff, and Stacy)
©1998 Soul Dump Music

originally written in July 1988
a lot of folks back home really take issue with (and to a large extent misunderstand) this song.

Sandwiches For The Road

All packed to go, baloney and mayonnaise sandwiches for the road
lay them out across the dash in the August sun
and if they turn green don't be afraid
nothing can hurt you but yourself
nothing can hurt you but yourself

I been given to visions from time to time (Mighty fields of vision)
and the voice in my brain can be a little unkind sometimes
Go ahead, point it at me, I ain't scared
nothing can hurt you but yourself
nothing can hurt you but yourself

and if you see me on the street and if I whop you on the head
you probably got it coming
and if you hit me back, we'll call it even, but I ain't going down easy
cuz my mama loves me and I got friends in Decatur, Alabama.

So drink another drink and smoke another cigarette
something's gonna get us yet
Cuz I got ashes in my throat and I ain't got no vote
it's just the way I stand myself
nothing can hurt you but yourself
nothing can hurt you but yourself

lyrics by Patterson Hood
music by Drive-by Truckers (Cooley, Hood, Howell, Lane, and Neff)
©1998 Soul Dump Music

written for and dedicated to the great Eddie Hinton
(His masterpiece, "Very Extremely Dangerous" is now available on Capricorn Records. Mobile Fidelity has also recently released "Letters From Mississippi" and it is very fine.)
Thanks to Johnny "Sailcat" Wyker, Wayne Perkins, Dick Cooper, and Jimmy Johnson for the folklore.


This is our weakest album and we didn't really know how to do what we were trying to do yet.
It does, however have The Living Bubba, which is still the best song I've ever written, Panties In your Purse, which was one of Cooley's earliest creations, and Late For Church, which was written by our original bass player Adam Howell and is one of the weirdest and sublime things we ever recorded.
Jim Stacy's artwork was great, appropriate and misunderstood. I still love it. On the original CD we tried to make it sound like 2 sides of vinyl. Here on vinyl, it is actually 3 sides and sounds so much better than the original release that it is like a much better album to me. I wrote Demonic Possession during Pat Buchanan's speech at 1996 GOP convention, which was on the TV in the kitchen where I was (hardly) working at the time.
-Patterson Hood


Coming Soon.