Two Shots of Happy, One Shot of Sad
Two shots of happy, one shot of sad
You think he's no good, well, he knew he was bad
Took him to a place, now he can't get back
Two shots of happy, one shot of sad
We walked together down a dead end street
Mixing the bitter with the sweet
Don't try to figure out, what we might've had
Just two shots of happy, one shot of sad
He was a singer, some say a sinner
Rolling the dice, not always a winner
You said he was lucky but hell he made his own
Not part of the crowd, not feeling alone
Under pressure but not bent out of shape
Surrounded, he always found an escape
It drove him to drink but hey, that's not all bad
Two shots of happy, one shot of sad
Guess he was greedy, all of his life
Greedy with his children, his lovers, his wife
Greedy for the good things as well as the bad
Two shots of happy, one shot of sad
Well, maybe it was talk, saloon singing
The chairs are all stacked and the swingers stopped swinging
You said he hurt you, you put the finger on yourself
And after you did it, you ran crying for his help
Two shots of happy, one shot of sad
He's not complaining, baby, he's glad
You call it a compromise, well, what's that
Two shots of happy, one shot of sad
Two shots of happy and one shot of sad
You think he's no good, well, he knew he was bad
Took him to a place, now he can't get back
Two shots of happy, one shot of sad
We walked together down a dead end street
Mixing the bitter with the sweet
Don't try to figure out, what we might've had
Just two shots of happy, one shot of sad
He was a singer, some say a sinner
Rolling the dice, not always a winner
You said he was lucky but hell he made his own
Not part of the crowd, not feeling alone
Under pressure but not bent out of shape
Surrounded, he always found an escape
It drove him to drink but hey, that's not all bad
Two shots of happy, one shot of sad
Guess he was greedy, all of his life
Greedy with his children, his lovers, his wife
Greedy for the good things as well as the bad
Two shots of happy, one shot of sad
Well, maybe it was talk, saloon singing
The chairs are all stacked and the swingers stopped swinging
You said he hurt you, you put the finger on yourself
And after you did it, you ran crying for his help
Two shots of happy, one shot of sad
He's not complaining, baby, he's glad
You call it a compromise, well, what's that
Two shots of happy, one shot of sad
Two shots of happy and one shot of sad
Credits
Writer(s): Dave Evans, Paul David Hewson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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