I'm counting back The number of the steps It took for me to get Back on the wagon of the weekend I'll use the auto-timer to prove that I'll Get home with my imagination If they find the body in the basement "In the very house that she was raised in" I'm taking down The number of the Times So when we get the sign From God I'll be the first to call them I'm taking back the number of the beast 'Cause six is not a pretty number Eight or three are definitely better A is for the address on the letter To my alcoholic friends I'm trying hard Not to be ashamed Not to know the name Of who is waking up beside me Or the date, the season or the city But at least the ceiling's very pretty And if you are holding it against me I'll be on my best behavior Taking shots for mother nature Once my fist is in the cupboard Love is never falling over (Hey) (One, two, three, four) Should I choose a noble occupation? If I did I'd only show up late and sick And they would stare at me with hatred Plus my only natural talent's wasted on my alcoholic friends My alcoholic friends The party never ends My alcoholic friends
