
fuck a'cappellas this isn't the 19th century - vincent valentine lyrics
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by the eighth guinness down, they’re closing up shop.
i guess it’s time for me to leave.
so now i’ll walk the old town i forever will call my home
with a guitar on my back and a heart on my sleeve.
and i know as long as those streetlights shine,
i’ll have a place to call mine.
within a mile of home, the stench of booze on my clothes,
i think of what will not be there as i lay alone
in my bed turned away from the cold grave on your side.
and i may wait for all time, or i just might end up dead.
it’s never gonna get any better, but it can’t get worse.
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