Dead at Last

	He ironed his shirt and pressed his pants
	And with a dull empty sadness hanging over his heart
	He shined his shoes.
	'It's better than working for a living', the waitress said.
	But all the time inside, Johnny's heart was breaking
	Open wide.
	Playing in that half empty Twilight Room on a Saturday
	Johnny tried to dream his life away
	Hoping that he would wake up in the beam of a super trooper
	Wishing that he was much cooler.
	All he heard his head say was
	"Life ain't like that".
	In the sorrow of his dressing room he sat
	So he drains the bottle
	Loads the gun
	Writes the note
	No-one will come
	Pulls the trigger
	Breaks the glass
	The man in the mirror
	Is dead at last.
	The note said "Stick your club right up your ass,
	This gig stinks, you're second class,
	I'm going to save my pride, keep my head,
	If people ask, that singer's dead."
	So when every hour seems like a day
	And nothing seems to go your way.
	Don't let those bastards drag you down
	You've got to hold on to what you've got
	Don't swan dive off a bottle top
	All you got to do is blow that town.