The Politics of Holy Shit I Just Cut My Hand On A Broken Bottle Johnny Hobo and The Freight Trains

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[Verse 1]
He talks about nothing using too many words
He talks revolution for an hour without using any verbs

She acts her age which is most of her problem
In love with everyone until she wakes up tomorrow

Another Saturday night
Another fucking shitty Saturday night

[Pre-Chorus]
I'm spinning in the next room
Slurring along to my isolation at the top of my lungs
I'm sitting here next to you
Sore throat from jokes about all the dumbest things I've done

I don't want to be anywhere at all
Here or at my house kicking at the wall

If home is where the heart is
Then I live in my upper chest

[Chorus]
I'm gonna drink until these tears
Start to taste like the cheap beer
I'm gonna drink tonight until these tears
Start to taste like the cheap beer