Whiskey Bones

Body’s tired, head is fried

A sudden bought of sickness, hold it in, a near miss

Busy all the while

Holding down the bile

Burning all around, feeling better, slowing down

Grateful for my pillow and I appreciate the window

But itching for something else

A remedy to fix my body when it can’t

It can’t fix it’s self

Drink in hand, nothing better, nothing plain

Fixing in my bloodstream, regulate my heartbeat

Make me feel the same, running wild in my veins

One more time, pour ‘em heavy, hold ‘em high

I got calm, got collected, predictably happy

When I finally feel the shot hit

I’m counting up to number seven

Gonna put it in my pocket, yeah

Whiskey bones, making trouble, taking blows

Picking fights with stones now, throw ‘em through the window

Make ‘em scream your name

Make sure they know what this is

Hands alive, the motion’s fine

Feeling pretty slick now, I

I think I’ll bring my past out, feeding it on the wires

Slinging heavy cries