Lyrics

I want nothing more Pass out on the fucking floor Go on out and get some more Living dead at the liquor store Crack it open, slam it down Until a new unconsciousness is found Blacked-out nights and last night's bruise Crawl out of my coma and grab me a brew But I've got no problems Listen up I've got no problems as long as I can get fucked up Another day, another dime, forty hours a week and it's a crime Staying sober's just a waste of time Forty bottles a week suits me fine When I came of age, sex became deadly Playing Russian roulette with HIV Gasoline and alcohol Another twisted wreck, the dispatch calls