Из альбома: Last of the Big Game Hunters
Once again they scrape your carcass off the floor
From where it fell,
And throw your sad ass out the door
It's not the first time,
But it just may be the worst time
Luckily they know who you are
And they know what you're about,
But your free rides in this life are quickly running out
All in all, your life hasn't been that bad
You succeeded in
Alienating every friend you've ever had
Who took you in
And put up with your drunken musings,
Broken bones and ego-bruisings,
Conspiracies, accusations,
And other late night revelations
We used to find so entertaining
You still think that people like you more
The louder that you shout
But we all find the novelty is running out
Once again you put yourself up to the test,
To see how much a human can ingest
You should be in the book of Guinness
It's not the first time,
But it just may be the worst time
Even though the number of your friends,
And the benefit of the their doubt is running out
It's all running out