First World Problems
The corner of the bar is calling me home tonight
Like it has a hundred times before
This drink is telling me that everything is going to be alright
At least for a few hours more
When drinking alone becomes like your best friend
well you know I've made a few wrong turns
The girl that you think about is the one you've lost
well you know I'll never learn
It's over-rated, it's so cliché,
I never thought that I would be that asshole
Who's always whining
who's always crying
into a shot of whiskey
I should just shut the f**k up, not be miserable all my life
like some prick in the summer of '69
crying for what's he's lost, not what he's got
no, I'll change things in my life
My bones are weary from these long work weeks
but these bills don't pay themselves
The drama between friends never seems to cease
caught in the middle of he said/she said hell
It's over-rated, it's so cliché
I never thought that I would be that asshole
Who's always whining
who's always crying
into a shot of whiskey
I should just shut the f**k up, not be miserable all my life
Like some prick in the summer of '69
Crying for what he's lost, not what he's got
No, I'll change things in my life
Like it has a hundred times before
This drink is telling me that everything is going to be alright
At least for a few hours more
When drinking alone becomes like your best friend
well you know I've made a few wrong turns
The girl that you think about is the one you've lost
well you know I'll never learn
It's over-rated, it's so cliché,
I never thought that I would be that asshole
Who's always whining
who's always crying
into a shot of whiskey
I should just shut the f**k up, not be miserable all my life
like some prick in the summer of '69
crying for what's he's lost, not what he's got
no, I'll change things in my life
My bones are weary from these long work weeks
but these bills don't pay themselves
The drama between friends never seems to cease
caught in the middle of he said/she said hell
It's over-rated, it's so cliché
I never thought that I would be that asshole
Who's always whining
who's always crying
into a shot of whiskey
I should just shut the f**k up, not be miserable all my life
Like some prick in the summer of '69
Crying for what he's lost, not what he's got
No, I'll change things in my life
Credits
Writer(s): Jonny Larson, Kevin Labarre, Mike Sellars, Paul Miller
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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