We were younger then
Thursday nights with friends
We'd stay out all night on purpose
And we'd try to sing
About anything
Back before our lives were worth it
We'd close down the bar
Vomit out the car
And get food with the money we borrowed
Fried cheese on our fries
We'd see in our eyes
We'd be back again tomorrow
Now we're getting old
Oldest story told
They all go home to their daughters
But I'm still hanging on
Like I'm 21
A new-millennial martyr