Fiddle Lake

Drugs & Alcohol

9 to 5

Say how you feel, don't be afraid to be real

Walking around with all them hammy-down politics

I think I'd just leave them alone if you do

I need a little bit

They need a lot

And oh let me guess what they say in the press "was it the nazis or the peter pan communists?"

I don't think they know what the say anyway

I need a little bit

They need a lot

Cause you're damned if you do

you'll be damned if you don't

I'll sail away

These things don't bother me these days

If you got troubles kid, thats fine you just need time to keep on beating down the line

You'll be okay

Here in the middle I can play on my fiddle

Drowning away all of these looney toon diplomats

I think I'll just leave it at that

and at this:

I need a little bit

They need a lot

If you want it come and get it babe

It could kill you if you let it stay

Get this monkey off another way

Save the come-down for another day

Don't tempt me baby

My heart's 'bout had enough

I thought that maybe

These times are just too tough

I know that lately

It just don't help at all

It makes me crazy

These drugs and alcohol

Gimme money Give me everything

Sell your TV, sell mom's wedding ring

Go ask Nuchi for a buck or ten

So you can go and get your fix again

Waking up so early

I'm tired of this 9 to 5

My back is always hurting

It's getting harder just to stay alive

I gotta work and check my credit

I hate to say it but my dad was right

I guess I just don't get it

how some people put up such a fight

And if my fifty years should fall

And I'm complacent with it all

Living to work is not to live

Then may my savior take my breath

An artist dies and artists death

when they got nothing left to give

Stop and quit your bitching

This living shit it ain't so bad

Just go clean up your kitchen

Cause honestly it's getting sad

How the fuck you think the world woks

You can work or you can starve and die

I know your fucking back hurts

But you're lucky just to be alive

And if my sixty years should fall

And I complain about it all

Not live to work but work to live

Then may my savior take my breath

An artist dies an artists death

When they got nothing left to give

Is it true?

you've been dreaming of it..

Violent frames

in a strange yet familiar place

You might find something swimming in your head

like a word that's left unsaid, just a thought lost to the wind

So you stop and you think about it

what could have been of it?

Chance is just a losers game

All these things that have come and gone with

All of those silly songs and

All those things we used to say

You might find that to love and lose is worth more than you can use and hurt is just a preacher to the maimed

But this ball keeps on spinning for us all so wipe those tears and stand up tall

You will learn to love again