Double-A Asshole
You can’t make up through sobriety
What you obviously lack in civility
You say you were an ornery drunk
Well you’re far from peaceful still
You approach all your problems violently
Well buddy, that’s not how you’re gonna solve me
If I’ve got the disease, old friend,
Why is it you who’s ill?
———————————————————-
{CHORUS}
What’s wrong with you wasn’t drink or drugs
What’s wrong with you is you
You can join any club or cult that you want
The problem will still be you
———————————————————-
So swing at a darkened room blindly
We’ll watch as you dispatch your enemies
You rail against yourself enough
One day soon you’ll get your kill
You may have found sobriety
But not harmony or tranquility
You say you’re cured of your disease
So why are you still ill?
———————————————————-
{CHORUS}
What’s wrong with you wasn’t drink or drugs
What’s wrong with you is you
You can join any club or cult that you want
The problem will still be you
About this entry
You’re currently reading “Double-A Asshole,” an entry on Adam Hammack's Weblog
- Published:
- November 7, 2009 / 2:45 am
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