This song was too easy to write.
Eyes worn out and bleary,
dehydrated from last night.
I look like I’ve been in a fight.
Not that I’d remember,
except in that I’d know I’m right.
Should I get through this,
I’ll stop forever.
A LIFE IN VICE WITH NIGHTS OF HEIGHTS
AND DAYS OF LOWS IN THROES OF BLOWS
OF CHUNKS WITH HUNKS OF SELF RESPECT
AND I DON’T THINK I’M FINISHED YET
IN BARS AND CARS WITH JARS OF SCOTCH
MY BRAIN DECAYING AS I WATCH
HELPLESS UNLESS PRESSED TO STOP
The party was probably alright.
Don’t know, I didn’t make it,
played my set with blurry sight.
Onstage it was painfully bright.
Don’t want to see or be seen
but still I can’t turn down the light.
Please don’t offer me a drink.
I don’t need it.
Good God, don’t offer it to me.
I’ll take it. Oh.
And I’ll be drinking without thinking.