Holding fast until the rent checks wear thin,
Because it hasn't sunk in... so far.

Well it's a drab routine, the dust starts building,
Until it's hard to come clean.

Then nine months stack up to an addictive crutch,
As if the drink weren't enough.
A stagger cannot compete.
There's no charm in the residential state street.

And if I was sober,
Would I kill caution and stay over?
And if I was sober,
Would I rip hearts apart like paper?

I wish you could know better than you show,
With parted lips pointing down.
That the whiskey soothes more than you could ever do.

And if I was sober,
Would I kill caution and stay over?
And if I was sober,
Would I rip hearts apart like paper?

And what a difference it'd make.
And what a difference it'd make.

And if I was sober,
Would I kill caution and stay over?
And if I was sober,
Would I rip hearts apart like paper?

And what a difference it'd make.
And what a difference it'd make.