I'm lazy, so other people will now speak for me, hence the brilliant lyrics of Eric Bachman and his band Crooked Fingers
hours slide by half forgotten/night turns black cause it's rotten
we slide right to the bottle/ our tongues made out of cotton
eyes sealed shut in a slumber/ till we hear someone mumble
could you spare from the tumbler/ a new drink for the old drunk
one of the most heartbraking and scathing songs ever written about the lives of alcoholics.
1 comment:
sounds like my kinda band
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