god created liquour so the irish wouldn't rule the world.
Spiked hair, cutoff pants and plaid jackets
The perfect combination for a good night
The music changes from melancholly to punk
As we jockey for a good seat
Supressing our emotions in dark bottles
Hiding behind bogus smiles and bright eyes
The eyes become lazy and the smiles fade
The smell of beer now as thick as the smoke
Wondering why you put yourself through this
You swear this will be the last time
Then that happy son of a bitch yells
Fuck it. I've got five on it.
- jared black
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