Sitting in a square room My voice is freezing And the beams that are bouncing off the moon Are hanging from my window like icicles
Just a tired old alcoholic, waxing bucolic Shivering and homesick Staring at a wooden floor Staring at a wooden floor
Last night I nearly killed myself Chasing rum with rum There were crows flying all around my head And I sure caught and ate me some
Funny how I alienated Those who I was trying just so, so hard to impress Now half those fuckers hate me And I'm just a fool to all the rest
Why do I insist on drinking myself to the grave? Why do I dream about cozy coffin? I had all these plans of great things to accomplish But I end up purely pathetic more than often
Sitting in a square room My voice is freezingTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
