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Wore Out The Soles Of My Party Boots

Life is fast but I don't wanna live past you

'Cause you are my only roots

I was the king of the drug, booze thing

Now I've worn out the soles of my party bootsSo call me shit faced, 'Master of Disgrace'

I don't care 'cause my outer skin

Is thick like crust and a liver that's rusted out

Now, I'm on a listEverybody wants to give a shit outta me

I won't give it but I'll give ambivalence

I gotta memory box 'cause my memory blocks me

From remembering weeksAll the blacked out nights into white out mornings

Into gray matter damagings

So call me Fat Fuck, geriatric punk rock

Give it straight 'cause I deserveA verbal beating from an audience bleating

And a melee with no concern

Everybody wants to give a shit outta me

I won't give it but I'll give irresponsivenessEverybody wants to drag me up again

I wanna go but the price keeps going up

Going down is simple and practical

Laying low but keeping it cynical

I'm on the wagon and it's such a drag

Without a key kick, shot and a dragEvidently no one likes a quitter

Or an old punk's bitterness

So I'm waiting for the tap

On my shoulder 'cause we're all getting older not better

The laughs are no longer with usSo call me Fat Fuck, geriatric punk

Call me Fat Fuck, geriatric punk

Call me Fat Fuck, geriatric punk

Shit faced, Master of Disgrace

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