When I left I wasn't thinking That I wasn't coming home But first Al Green And then Barry White Convinced me not to go
And I didn't come home for fighting I came to bandage up my hand And if you're gonna talk to me like that Then I'll just go back out again
Wipe that chip right off your shoulder We ain't getting any younger Some things are getting bigger Some things are falling off Some things they seem much harder Some other things stay soft
We're tipping over in the taprooms We're shooting through the ceiling We're dying in the bathrooms And we're living For that one sweet, fleeting feeling
I know my cough sounds awful Some nights it hurts a bit to breathe But I'm glad it's just my body I do my business on the street
We ain't getting any younger Tomorrow night we'll be that much older Some kids are growing awkward And some kids are going off We're fingering the punch bowl We're feeding from the trough
There's nothing quite like a Cheyenne sunrise To make us has-beens feel too old
I'm with the Christian soldiers We're gonna bash right through your borders I bet your next party gets sketchy I saw the new kids nodding off
Some things are getting bigger Some things are falling off Some things seem much harder Some other things stay soft
Compositores: Franz Alexander Nicolas (Franz Nicolay), Tad Jason Kubler, Craig A Finn ECAD: Obra #44832798