And if you can't think of anything then you gonna drink and think it later
Later, before you go
(Ahcanzeeahcanzeeahcanzeeah)


And if you go baby your gonna think what you coulda done better
So come on, let it go, take it all


Your baby got a postage on the line


Turn up later at your bicenten where you think about dad and you think about death
Everybody looks like a stare with the miles between us, spit in the wind til he wins to the tiller
When you make bartender with an eighty eight track and everybody laughs in the middle of the chair

You get a little special at shakin your $$# and all that class is not to make you better okay
(Keep it under your best friend's arms)