Whiskey In My Coffee

I take whiskey in my coffee 'cause it's cheaper than a meal.

Not to healthy but it helps me to maintain an even keel.

Early Saturday morning there's a line at the liquor store.

Like it said in the crowd it's liquid bread for the poor.

Vicious cycles are an angry revolution spinning trying to find some truth.

And the evidence that's presented ain't enough to keep it mended look around there's a hundred proof.

The life, the loss, the bottle and the cost.

It's how we spell hell messing around here in Boston, I'm surprised more people don't call themselves Cauztik.

Yeah we gotta set it off right now. But it's hard to fucking change when you don't know how. Gotta detonate it now. Raise a forty from the hill and watch it all come down.

I'm a cheap date kid stewed to the gills for a fiver.

Feel the burn every time I go and try to catch a fire.

And when I try and ride the wave I find my body broken bleeding on the ground.

'Cause the swells crash hard on this dirty old town.

Young and broke in a city that'll choke away your soul.

While somewhere in ivory towers gluttons fed on wealth and power pad their bank rolls.

I see despair and defeat in passing faces on the street, sometimes we sympathize should our eyes chance to meet.

Anesthetize my day with a whiskey neat, add a bottle or two of molotov to help me feel complete

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