20 on ramps this week, a thousand pints this year
We'd make new york tomorrow if we could stop spanging for more beer
But i've been counting the miles by the holes in my boots
nearly as many as my nose but snorting was its only use
so I'll keep crushing these pills like a reflection of the days
that i spent in the corner of you're bedroom in a haze
and as it drips down my throat how i wish i could forget
all the places that ive been and the people that ive met
but a haunting memory makes us a peice of who we are
So i'll try and forget myself in the bottom of this whiskey jar
But If I can't win an internal war
then progress and revolution has never seemed so far
I had a moment of clarity when i was passed out on the floor
our hunger is our depression, intoxication is our war
but we put more holes in the system when we're lying on the ground
than all you anarcho-syndiclists when you're screaming all aloud
cause if you don't agree with the system than why work at all
Within the confines of their laws and their offices and their halls
because between your union meetings and your coffee and fax machines
there's a ballot being casted signing death over seas
And behind your backyard fence there's a uniform of blue
with handcuffs and a gun for me and maybe you
We were born into this world with the freedom to do as we please
So where your heart tells you to go is the only place you should be
Where there's a law there's no freedom only oppression of ourselves
All cops are bastards may my words wring aloud
I've never felt so alone
But what we sacrifice also makes us who we are
So i guess that makes me the tears in the bottom of my whiskey jar
But if i can't win an internal war
then progress and revolution have never seemed so far