A Toast

The Lawrence Arms

You tell me that ya wanna go to heaven

But you run around acting like you're gonna live forever

You tell me that you're going through Hell

But you're puttin' others through it

You say that I smell like I haven't had a shower in 23 days

Like an unbalanced beer can two minutes too late

A look like a stale face from a fresh grave with

A chip on my shoulder and an eye full of rage

Can you taste that beer with your back to the bar?

Can you smell a cigarette without letting down your guard?

Ten cans, 4 a.m. friends, the sad thing is that you've always been like this

Moaning in a bed shaped like a hearse

Believe the lies that you tell yourself (and it'll never get worse)

You tell me that my problem is thinking

But I can chase it away with a problem like drinking

You tell me you don't wanna get old

But you've got a party on the line and a grave on hold

Like a drunk operator, like a game of roulette

Like a martini balanced on a whiffle ball bat

When a hard wind blows it's gonna fall down

When the wind blows there'll be broken glass all around

Like a bright shiny apple with a worm inside

Believe the lies that you tell yourself

This is the only way to die