The Dogs

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, this trying to forget you

Well, our souls are a little older
But you can't tell we learned a thing
If there's twelve that got invited, were thirteen
We're that last ones to know its over
And 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
And the band asked me not to curse no more
So I'll sing all the sad ones, and lean on the mad ones, okay?

Well, our souls are a little older
But you can't tell we learned a thing
If there's twelve that got invited, were thirteen
We're that last ones to know its over
And the first ones to have to beg
We're the dog 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 learned a thing
If there's twelve that got invited, were thirteen
We're that last ones to know its over
And the first ones to have to beg
We're the dog that crawled for miles on broken legs
We're the dregs
We're the dregs
We're the dregs
We're the dregs