You told me I'd regret it. On the day I left you. I had the nerve to laugh. As I walked away. Well, its been six months. And eighteen days. Feelin' nothin' but This empty pain.
I might regret it in the morning. I might have a hangover coming. I don't care, I'm letting down my hair. I might just make it a double. We all need a little trouble now and then.