I'm loosing grip, Maybe I'm entitled to another glass fo something cold, To take a sip, This place is something, If I hear one more mother then no joke I swear I'll hit the sky, Im another troubled poet, on a chemical diet, One day I'll fall into a hearse When you're busy living I'm busy dying For what it's worth The tan line on your finger says it all I'm the evenings entertainment You big lie A last call for my lost [?] back again Now I'm the wine, she's the taster You big lie You big lie You big lie You big lie Walls closing in I swear I'm in control My body rushes over suddenly Was just a trip My hand is pulsing Altercation with the waitress Left my money in my other jeans 'Cus I'm a, another troubled poet On a, a chemical diet One day I'll fall into a hearse When you're busy living I'm busy dying For what it's worth The ten line on your finger says it all I'm the evening entertainment You big lie A last call for my lost [?] back again Now I'm the wine, she's the taster You big lie You big lie You big lie You big lie The tan line on your finger says it all I'm the evening entertainment You big lie A last call for my lost [?] back again Now I'm the wine, she's the taster You big lie You big lie You big lie You big lie x6