do you have any idea, how many songs they wrote about you?

saturday night, 10:30pm.

I'm left with two options. Fill the flask with the whiskey, and go wander the streets [because I'm poor and can't afford the bar tonight].

sit home, and let the idea of blowing my head off start to sound reasonable.

it's cold outside, and the streets are waiting...

I have some walkin, and drinkin, and thinkin to do...