I've got my ticket out of here. But for you, I fear, it's much too late. It's nothing you can blame me for. In love and war, it's every man for himself.
One glass in the mornin', two shots at night. Three fourths anytime that you wanna get tight. Drink wine to remember, swill gin to forget. And blame the world for the peace that you haven't found yet.
A walk through the product store and 15 aisles to see. All the pretty, pretty packages staring back at me. Which is my favorite, where is my chance. To remove the product and stick it in my pants.