[Part I. The Hangover Ma**] I'm sorry, Mama, but I've been drinking again Me and the old man got us a head start on the weekend And rest a**ured, tonight I'm going to be in Kevin's basement with all my friends Provided we can get, get our lazy a**es down to Bottle King by ten And the walk home is going to be a real sh** show I'll be picking up half-smoked cigarette bu*ts all up and down Rock Road And then to throw up in the warm glow of the traffic light But I'm gonna put the devil inside to sleep if it takes all night So let's get f**ed up, and let's pretend we're all okay And if you've got something that you can't live with Save it for another day, all right? Save it for another day I'm sorry, Mama, but expect a call from the neighbors tonight All of my a**hole buddies are coming over and they're feeling a little too all right I'm sick and tired of everyone in this town being so goddamn uptight But don't you worry, I'll do all the talking when they turn on the flashing lights When I'm an old man, I can be the quiet type And I can go without a moment of fun for the rest of my life I can read a good book, and I can be in bed by ten And I can get up early, go to work and come home, and start it all over again But while we're young, boys, everybody raise your gla**es high Singing, 'Here's to the good times, here's to the home team Kiss the good times goodbye, oh yeah Kiss the good times goodbye.' [Part II. Grandpa's Old Cough Medicine] I need a timeout, I need an escape from reality Or else I need eternal darkness and d**h, I need an exit strategy Down in North Carolina, I could have been a productive member of society But these New Jersey cigarettes and all they require have made a f**ing junkie out of me So give me a Guinness, give me a Keystone Light Give me a kegger on a Friday night Give me anything but another year in exile I need a whiskey, I need a whiskey right now God knows how many times I've said this before But I really don't feel like doing this anymore [Part III. Song for Tretiak's Movie] So hey, Andy, let's turn into dirty old men Close down the bar every night at the Glen Rock Inn Talk about our grandkids as we stroke our grey bears Funny we're still doing carbombs after all of these years And I know there are bicycles waiting to ride But I could swear I heard voices from the other side, saying 'Wait until you see the whites of their eyes.' And now that I'm older, I look back and say 'What the f** was it for anyway?' For those dreams are lying in the still of the grave - What the f** were they for anyway? So let it be on a stretcher if I get carried away - What the f** was it for anyway?