| These times have got me drinking
|
| As I’m tripping up the stairs
|
| To an empty room left haunted
|
| By a ghost who once lived there
|
| Now I’m tripping up the stairs
|
| Through a sea of faceless bottles
|
| And the stench of the afternoon
|
| I crawl into this coffin
|
| Sure I was dead before I knew
|
| Morning starts with sunset
|
| As the darkness fills my eye
|
| It’s been so long since another soul
|
| Occupied this life
|
| So I head downstairs to a familiar friend
|
| Who’ll comfort, maybe talk
|
| About our roads less traveled
|
| And to the best times we ever had
|
| And to the best times we ever had
|
| These times have got me drinking
|
| As I’m tripping up the stairs
|
| To an empty room left haunted
|
| By a ghost who once lived there
|
| Peace be with the troubled
|
| As the these times now make it clear
|
| Try forget until it’s over
|
| When the last call splits your ear
|
| These times have got me drinking
|
| As I’m tripping up the stairs
|
| Never asked for the perfect saviour
|
| Never wanted though I cared
|
| Now I’m tripping up the stairs
|
| So I’ll crucify another
|
| To nail away the fear
|
| But don’t pity me, I’m just broken
|
| Who’ll be the next brave volunteer
|
| Who’ll be the next brave volunteer
|
| These times have all us drinking
|
| As we’re tripping up the stairs
|
| To an empty room left haunted
|
| By a ghost who once lived there
|
| These times have got me drinking
|
| As I’m tripping up the stairs
|
| Never asked for a perfect saviour
|
| Never wanted though I cared
|
| Now I’m tripping up the stairs
|
| Mind yourself |