It was such a wonderful party and it lasted such a long time
I thought I was Paul Gauguin or Akasha in the night
Wine bottles in the hallway and beer cans in the garbage
Tell a tale of fruitful nodding and days so fine and fine
Drawings deck the hallways and the friends we've made are precious
Sleep is another rotting joke, we sell our memories in the street

Caitlin went to methadone and Sluggo takes showers by the hour
Isabel cries sleepless in the night, playing Orbison, running scared
Leather Sleeve stumbles off to work only to break dishes
Mick and Demetrius buy microphones to support Bruce's deadly habit
It's such a vicious circle that's too easy to get trapped in
I struggle to make ends meet and I'm walking home with nothing

I thought I was Frida Kahlo or Lord Byron out for a swim
I thought I was Belle Starr shooting yuppies in their cars
But all good parties have to end, for every up there is a down
These are all such good friends of mine, I hope we all live through it

Rise up pagans, you will not burn
Souls intact, you'll get your turn
Glory, health waits you
Like the songs you haven't sung yet
Money earned is better spent
On food and paper, fuck the rent

Copyright: O/B/O DistroKid
Writer(s): John Bassham