Every Third Monday Lyrics
He drives to Charlotte, every third Monday, and checks into the Twelve Oaks Motel
He calls it business, and he calls the number of a woman he knows all too well
Every third Monday when his wife packs his suitcase, he looks her straight in the eye
Every third Monday he finds a new way to tell her that same old lie
Back home in Atlanta, in a cafe for lovers, she slips off her gold wedding ring
To a stranger in a back booth, she whispers I'd love to
Two can play at this old cheatin' game
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Every third Monday, she packs his suitcase, she looks him straight in the eye
Every third Monday, she finds a new way to tell him that same old lie
Every third Monday, he finds a new way to tell her that same old lie
