| How long can I drag this thing on?
|
| It feels like someone pissed inside my soul
|
| Spent my life perfecting desperation
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| Never gave a damn about self control
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| And if the bottom dropped out of hell
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| I’d be too low down to even tell
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| Gotta keep on living 'cause dead men can’t get drunk
|
| No, they can’t get drunk
|
| Singing songs about the good old crucifixion
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| They never said don’t try this at home
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| Well, on an endless anthem of self mass destruction
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| Gotta keep on living 'cause dead men can’t get drunk
|
| No, they can’t get drunk
|
| How long can I drag this thing on?
|
| It feels like someone pissed inside my soul
|
| And on an endless anthem to the mass self-destruction
|
| Well, I don’t know, it’s ready to go
|
| And if the bottom dropped out of hell
|
| I’d be too low down to even tell
|
| Gotta keep on living 'cause dead men can’t get drunk
|
| No, they can’t get drunk, no
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| So nail me up the best you can
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| Just put a cold one in my hand |