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Trouble Shared?

Is trouble halved, or so the saying goes. I don't even know why I chose it as a title. But hell, here goes nothing.
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Created by PrivatexRadio on Tuesday, May 27, 2008


I fought the divine nation,
With your religion comes confrontation,
Prescribe the good men medication,
And destroy the corruption surrounding us
The radio pours useless prophecy
Of better health and cheaper booze
A contradiction in terms, I think
But in this world there's nothing to lose
Drown your sorrows every Saturday
Let the liquor run through your veins
Every last drop for every last sin
Every man and woman in the bar
Will make it home and wake up regretting
The alcohol consumption, it's so pathetic
Privacy isn't a concern
When all the money that you earn
Goes to poisoning the mind and the system
When what you say you never learned
You clutch at your heart as you feel it breaking
Like the bottle over your head from a man
Whose drunken stupor is violence escalating
The blood pours and now you think you can
Drown your sorrows every Saturday
Let the blood congeal in the whiskey
Every last drop as you bleed it out
Every last stop on the way to dying
Last chance saloons and Chrysler sedans
A somber graveyard littered with cans
So I'll rip this bottle from your hands
And kiss you on the lips to wake
The common sense that since lied dormant
In the sedentary part of your brain
I should be asleep, you should be dead
The alarm bleepsand you forgot the meds
I guess I'm a creep, and you're wrong in the head
But I never wanted to see you dead
I never wanted to see you dead
I never wanted to see you out of your head.

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