Thing of the Past (Live)

Two weeks without alcohol ain't hard if it weren't for these goddamn scars
and memories and hell it helps me sleep
I cannot focus if I don't rest and if I ain't doing nothing lord I get depressed
so here's to raising hell and living cheap

Life ain't all it's supposed to be
walking floors and worrying
behind locked doors avoiding friends you hardly see
I've live and learned and lord I made it back
I fought three at once and they whooped my ass
but living's better when taking chances constantly

I like to get high as a mountain when I'm crumbling to my knees
And all that shit they talk it don't mean a thing to me
We are all mixed in this landscape huddled in the shade
Searching chain store shelves for identity

Well if these wrinkles they are proof of age then read them all as single days
of learning who is who and what is what
See man some may show a mask or two and base their lives on having more than you
man that life must be lonely as fuck

You see that's not how it's supposed to be
lapping up commodities
with money that you don't have or even see
I've live and learned and lord I made it back
I want nothing and that's still all I have
It's not what you make or do it's how you're living

I like to get high as a mountain when I'm crumbling to my knees
And all that shit they talk it don't mean a thing to me
We are all mixed in this landscape huddled in the shade
Searching chain store shelves for identity

(Small talk that shit)

Well I'm going grey and I'm getting old but that don't mean I do what I'm told
in fact I've opted out I've given up
See man money is a thing of the past you spend it once and it don't come back
so says reverend Bobby Joe Small so that's what's up

This is not what it's supposed be
walking floors and worrying
it's about life and family and thinking free
I've been lit up before and bounced right back
made mistakes and learned to laugh
Tonight I'm getting drunk and simply living

I like to get high as a mountain when I'm crumbling to my knees
And all that shit they talk it don't mean a thing to me
We are all mixed in this landscape huddled in the shade
Searching chain store shelves for identity
Pacing chain store floors for identity



Credits
Writer(s): Timothy Joseph Barry
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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