Wore Out The Soles Of My Party Boots

Life is fast but I don't wanna live past you

'Cause you are my only roots

I was the king of the drug/booze thing

Then I wore out the soles of my party boots

So call me shit face, master of disgrace

I don't care 'cause my outer skin

Is thick like crust and a liver that's rusted out

Now I'm on a list

Everybody wants to give a shit out of me

I won't give it but I'll give ambivalence

I've got a memory box 'cause my memory blocks me

From remembering weeks

All the blacked out nights into white out mornings

Into gray matter damagings

So call me fat fuck, geriatric Punk Rock

Give it straight 'cause I deserve

A verbal beating from an audience bleating

And a melee with no concern

Everybody wants to give a shit out of me

I won't give it but I'll give irresponsiveness

Everybody wants to drag me up again

I wanna go but the price keeps going up

Going down is simple and practical

Laying low but keeping it cynical

I'm on the wagon and it's such a drag

Without a key, kick, shot, and a drag

Evidently no one likes a quitter or an old Punk's bitterness

So I'm waiting for the tap

On my shoulder 'cause we're all getting older not better

And the laughs are no longer with us

So call me fat fuck, geriatric Punk

Shit face, master of disgrace