歌词
I'll just get the oars and push myself right off
Right off
How could I hold myself liable
Under such madness?
Do pray tell?
Faces of bottles read through night
Swaying in context, warning light
Yet another patron is dedicated to this last jam
It's only 40 seconds 'til the show begins
Watch the screaming squabble of drunken state
Son, another grayscale of apathy in such a place
Not much time for reaction if one is wake
For fear of contracting such vile taste
This has been the last time he'll leave here
Almost deadly undone, pre-empt of fear
Ten seconds now 'til the curtain is raised
Cold sweat seeps from his liquored brow
No one to throw the ring
One foot of water now
In panic stricken reigned he forgets how to swim
I'll scratch another from the cleansing post
It's almost a rush to reach for the blade
It goes from shame to shambles in less than days
Natural selection with a shove I'll take it from here
