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?
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