As I coast through the end of another year
I'm sipping my wine near Kalamazoo
Not working at all and I'm growing out my graying beard
And told every day"not the American way"
One more puff and I'll swallow my lungs
Out of the muck and mire I will make my way
Back to my bed
In the hallways of the local juke joints and honkey-tonks
You'll find a dozen no ones just like me
Merry redundancies drifting through a poppy field
And told every day"not the American way"
One more puff and I'll swallow my lungs
Out of the muck and mire I will make my way
Back to my bed