EVERY TIME I DIE – Partying Is Such Sweet Sorrow

At the bottom of the first drink I found my nerve. At the bottom of the next
one I met my girl. At the bottom of the third drink I found a fourth and at the
bottom of that one was a trojan horse that carried in demons who brought their
brides and they tempted darkness where I lost my mind. Well the fifth drink
found it and carried it home where my girl was waiting one foot out the door.
Another night spent gathering dust. Mug shot of a marble bust. Ruination leaves
the lantern lit so I know where the good lovin’ is. I used to be a goddamn
saint. I said my prayers and handled snakes until the road introduced me to
sin. I only shook hands with drink but he had friends with him. I curse the day
we raised our glass up like a bridge to let the Devil pass because he ain’t
ever left this town and only beaten and unborn are living with him now. I used
to be a holy man. “Once put an onion in a beggar’s hand.” But now I’d rather
not believe. How can a man I’ve never met be so cruel to me? At least I’m in
good company. I’ll drink to that. Dash the cup. Fifteen years has been long
enough. Put the child in an unmarked grave and burn the black book, page by
page. Go alone, there is your road. For once, I’m awake and I will not serve
madness. I am not the company I keep. Dash the cup. Fifteen years has been long
enough put the child in an unmarked grave and burn the black book, page by
page.