the battle is my ball and chain
my breath smells like kerosene
i'm a sight for sore eyes to see
i can't believe i'm a walking talking misery
don't you touch my bottle
you might drop it break it then i die
why do i always cry the blues?
i don't need your fucking sympathy
it means about the same to me
am i insane? will i ever change?
can't remember when i wasn't drunk
i don't care what they think no
i don't drink that rock and rye