Lyrics
(Intro) (Verse 1) Thomas had a store on the edge of town, Where he sold his beds, but never wore a frown. He'd talk your ear off 'bout thread counts and foam, But when it came to sales, he was stuck at home. (Chorus) Oh, Thomas, bless his heart, tryin' to make a buck, But his sales pitch was rusty, like an old pickup truck. He'd strum his guitar, singin' tunes so sweet, But his mattress empire never skipped a beat. (Verse 2) He'd greet each customer with a smile so wide, Promisin' them comfort for their weary hide. But they'd leave empty-handed, headin' for the door, And poor old Thomas, well, he'd just strum some more. (Chorus) Oh, Thomas, bless his heart, tryin' to make a buck, But his sales pitch was rusty, like an old pickup truck. He'd strum his guitar, singin' tunes so sweet, But his mattress empire never skipped a beat. (Chorus) Oh, Thomas, bless his heart, tryin' to make a buck, But his sales pitch was rusty, like an old pickup truck. He'd strum his guitar, singin' tunes so sweet, But his mattress empire never skipped a beat. (Instrumental Outro)
