Seven Months of Sundays

Seven months of Sundays

 

Spent seven months of Sundays

Watching the sands wind down through the glass 

Half filled with hope at one time 

but now the time has come and passed 

Like a pirates eye dead and empty Inside 

Laughing at my own foolishness 

As another noose gets tied

 

Brandy and bourbon

Whiskey and gin

Vodka tonics save the limes

Quervo shooters again

Pick myself up

off the bar room floor

And swear to a full scotch-glass

I wont fall for her tricks no more

 

Threw my heart through a broken bottle

Because I thought it'd get her off my mind 

But the lacerations couldn't sever dreams that still haunt me at night 

Singing  a BushMills chorus 

Jamison knows these lines by wrote 

and there's plenty of Stoli vodka 

When the PBR runs out

 

Bourbon and brandy

Whiskey and gin

Vodka tonics save the limes

Table set just for one again

Pick myself up

off the bar room floor

And swear to an empty glass

I wont fall for her tricks no more

 

Prepaid tickets to sri lanka

Stained with rum and coke

Non refundable deposits

Drained my bank account

Passport at the ready

gathering dusty webs

And she thinks it hilarious

Ive fallen off the wagon again