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