It's a nasty way of living sometimes
When my jar ain't holding a single dime
But my glass is holding the last thing I wanna do
I'm gonna drink every dime I make tonight
And I'll die just to get a room
It's a bad, bad business, always trying to forget you
Well, our souls are a little older
But you can't tell we've learned a thing
If there's twelve that got invited, then we're thirteen
We're the last ones to know it's over
We're the first ones to have to beg
We're the dog that crawled for miles on broken legs
We're the dregs
I've pawned everything I've ever owned
Just to drive eight hours to this bar-room show
And to play these songs and pray for a friendly face
It ain't easy acting like it ain't personal
But the band asked me not to curse no more
So I'll play all these sad songs, and lean on these mad songs, okay?
Well, our souls are a little older
But you can't tell we've learned a thing
If there's twelve that got invited, then we're thirteen
We're the last ones to know it's over
We're the first ones to have to beg
We're the dogs that crawled for miles on broken legs
We're the dregs
Now the parking lot is an old ghost-town
No evidence anyone has ever been around
Except a handful of gravel and a half-pint of something mean
So I'll retreat somewhere and cover my wounds
And pray to God that the checkout's noon
If there's any luck left, it'll be halfway clean
Well, our souls are a little older
But you can't tell we've learned a thing
If there's twelve that got invited, then we're thirteen
We're the last ones to know it's over
And the first ones to have to beg
We're the dogs that crawled for miles on broken legs
We're the dregs