Straight as an arrow I'm walking on a narrow path from now Until my next round And I have my reasons I feel life's just not as pleasing as it was In the past And white like a spectre I don't really expect you to relate I just need to talk I wrote the writting that you saw In every room, on every wall You're not a martyr just because you took the blame I learned that the hard way So dry as a preacher But Sunday hasn't quite reached me just yet So, why not drink to that?