|
Never again, your so called friend |
|
Will leave you sick and dry |
|
This friend has a name |
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Knows the gutter and shame |
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This so called friend of you and |
|
I ?, the long-term goals |
|
Are to leave this friend behind |
|
He knows what |
|
I lack Is a place under the sack |
|
For every other tie that binds |
|
This last night on the town |
|
Might be your last fun time out |
|
And you think to yourself |
|
There must be a better way than the same routine |
|
For more than once, you pay |
|
More than once, you pay |
|
Butt full of lead, stuck in your web |
|
Held captive by the stream |
|
Thoughts in your head |
|
The minute |
|
I sped And you still had time to dream |
|
This last night on the town |
|
Might be your last |
|
And you smile at things and wave goodbye |
|
More excuses to never even try |
|
As you wave goodbye |
|
Forget what |
|
I said, your friend's not dead |
|
He's only gone for a while |
|
Come back to that crack between what's white and what's black |
|
And give you one last smile |
|
This last night on the town |
|
Might be your last fun time out |
|
And you think to yourself |
|
There must be a better way than the same routine |
|
For more than once, you pay |
|
More than once, you pay |
