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A Drink to Death - That Handsome Devil



     
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A Drink to Death Lyrics


Make sure my glass is full
Let's crash and see how fast we go
She took a shot and held her breath
I'm gonna drink myself to death
It'll eat your insides, your brain burns, and your skin dries
Bumbling through the alleys, like you think you're still alive
I wanna hold you closely, I wanna smell your sweat
I wanna drink myself to death
There will be no candles, there will be no romance
I will be alone, we will not hold hands
There will be no toasting, there will be no romance
You are young, I am an old man
And if I pass out, wake me up
I may be drunk, but I'm not drunk enough
And everything keeps fucking up
We were nice together, weren't we once?

I'm drunk, but I'm not drunk enough
We were nice together, weren't we once?
Make sure my glass is full
We can laugh 'til I'm the last to know
From now 'til nothing's left
I'm gonna drink myself to death
When I woke, it was daylight and the clouds were pink
The sun was coming up or going down I think
We had jumped around, shouted out and called
(I'm gonna drink myself to death)
Gone home to wash the dirt all down the sink
Make sure my glass is full
It's made the evening magical
The lies have no regrets
I'm gonna drink myself to death
Make sure my glass is full
Let's crash and see how fast we go
I'll take a shot and hold my breath
I'm gonna drink myself to death
The nights have lost their minds
And the mornings are unkind
And this, the last I see of you
And this, the glass I see of you
The nights have lost their minds
And the mornings are unkind
And this, the last I see of you
Smash the glass to make it meaningful
If I pass out, wake me up
I may be drunk but I'm not drunk enough
And everything keeps fucking up
We were nice together, weren't we once?
I'm drunk but I'm not drunk enough
We were nice together, weren't we once...
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Take a ride with That Handsome Devil to the other side of town: a neighborhood where Charles Bukowski hung his hat at a juke joint; where the bartender knew Hunter Thompson’s single malt of choice and kept plenty in stock. This is the place where That Handsome Devil’s front man Godforbid calls home, where producer Jeremy Page bangs on a bullet-riddled piano, its beaten keys howling from a smoky corner.

Read more about That Handsome Devil on Last.fm.


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That Handsome Devil