Everything Is So Fucked Up
Everything is so fucked up
Everything is so fucked up
Everything is so fucked up
Everything is so fucked up
I can't play jazz and I sing off key
Can't pay the rent and my pockets are empty
The jukebox reminds me of all the songs I lose
When I'm too busy wallowing in the blues
Everything is so fucked up
Everything is so fucked up
Everything is so fucked up
Everything is so fucked up
Bitter Street is bittersweet
when even your memories are a memory
Would someone buy me another drink?
Would someone buy me another whiskey?
Everything is so fucked up
Everything is so fucked up
Everything is so fucked up
Everything is so fucked up
When someone asks "what you been doin'?"
"Nothin'" is all I can say
It's hard to do much when I'm always in pain
And scared to wake the next day
Every song already had its turn
'I Hate Music' that's Paul Westerberg
You think its fun to be thirty-one and have ambition
but not the bullets for the gun
Everything is so fucked up
Everything is so fucked up
Everything is so fucked up
My fingers just ran out of luck
Writer/s: Gentry Bronson
