I'm sorry, mama, but I've been drinking again Me and the old man got us a head start on the weekend And rest assured tonight I'm going to be in Kevin's basement with all my friends Provided we can get, get our lazy asses down to Bottle King by ten
And the walk home is going to be a real shit-show I'll be picking up half-smoked cigarette butts all up and down Rock Road And then throw up in the warm glow of the traffic light But I'm going to put the devil inside me to sleep if it takes all night
So let's get fucked up And let's pretend we're all okay And if you've got something that you can't live with, save it for another day Alright, save it for another day
I'm sorry, Mama, expect a call from the neighbors tonight All of my asshole buddies are coming over and they're feeling a little too alright I'm sick and tired of everyone in this town being so goddamn uptight But don't you worry, I'll do all the talking when they turn on the flashing lights
When I'm an old man I can be the quiet type And I can go without a moment of fun for the rest of my life I can read a good book and I can be in bed by ten And I can get up early, go to work and come home, and start it all over again
But while we're young, boys, everybody raise your glasses high Singing, "Here's to the good times, here's to the home team Kiss the good times goodbye Oh yeah, kiss the good times goodbye"
I need a timeout I need an escape from reality Or else I need eternal darkness and death I need an exit strategy
Down in North Carolina I could have been a productive member of society But these New Jersey cigarettes and all they require Have made a fucking junkie out of me
So give me a Guinness Give me a Keystone Light Give me a kegger on a Friday night Give me anything but another year in exile
I need a whiskey, I need a whiskey, I need a whiskey right now I need a whiskey, I need a whiskey God know how many times I've said this before But I really don't feel like doing this anymore
So hey, Andy, let's turn into dirty old men Close down the bar every night at the Glen Rock Inn Talk about our grandkids as we stroke our gray beards Funny we're still doing car bombs after all of these years
Now I know there are bicycles waiting to ride But I could swear I heard voices from the other side Saying, "Wait until you see the whites of their eyes"
And now that I'm older, I look back and say "What the fuck was it for anyway?" Those dreams are lying in the still of the grave What the fuck were they for anyway?
So let it be on a stretcher if I get carried away What the fuck was it for anyway? What the fuck was it for anyway?Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
