Well, let me tell you 'bout the life I see in you,
I see something self-absorbed,
Something scared and old.
And though you drink and roll the dice,
You use that bottle as a vice,
The whiskey is a knife inside you.
Just hold on to…
Oh, don’t tell me where to go,
Don’t tell me what you know,
You know it’s something I’ll find on my own.
Oh, don’t tell me what to be,
Don’t tell me what you see,
You know I’ll find out on my own.
So as you go and live your life,
Did you ever stop to think?
Did you ever put the drink down for a day?
Look what you’ve got,
A loving wife, two kids, and a home they came from.
So what’s the home you gave them