| Maybe I don’t mind just getting high in mine
|
| Shouting over music with a friend who’s like a brother
|
| Because if I get time I’d just regret most shit
|
| From every hangover my head feels
|
| To every ex I didn’t treat right
|
| To every Monday I called in sick
|
| To every argument I let slide
|
| Christ, I ain’t ever going back to thinking straight
|
| Twice! |
| Twice, it brung me down but it’s the last time
|
| Maybe I’ll grow tired of you bitchin' all the time
|
| Cause when you love the way you’re living it gets hard to fret about much
|
| Because if I get time I’d just regret most shit
|
| From every hangover my head feels
|
| To every ex I didn’t treat right
|
| To every Monday I called in sick
|
| To every argument I let slide
|
| Christ, I ain’t ever going back to thinking straight
|
| Twice! |
| Twice, it brung me down but it’s the last time
|
| Christ, I ain’t ever going back to thinking straight
|
| Twice! |
| Twice, it brung me down but it’s the last time
|
| From every hangover my head feels
|
| To every ex I didn’t treat right
|
| To every Monday I called in sick
|
| To every argument I let slide
|
| Christ, I ain’t ever going back to thinking straight
|
| Twice (yeah, twice)! |
| Twice, it brung me down but it’s the last time |