Treetops spinning at the outskirts of my vision In the back yard of a stranger on the edges of my mind I lay broken with my belly up to heaven, I guess Drinking hard for seven days can turn your blue eyes blind Held that tragic destiny Like a puppet on my knee Blurred the line 'tween him and me And nearly lost my soul 'till I realized I could Get that puppet, get him good I used that doll for kindling wood To warm me from the cold Chorus: Oh my Dylan Thomas days are finally over I'm through with all those self-destructive ways And though I ain't exactly clean at least I'm sober I made it through my Dylan Thomas days Lord have mercy, it's a sunny, Sunday morning And I am not in a coma and there's nothing I regret I did not wake up thirsty or to the sound of my own snoring And the not so faint aroma of tequila on my breath What a concept, can it be? I feel a little like Dorothy When she woke up and found that she Was safe in her own bed But oh that nightmare sure seemed true And you were there and you were too I don't know how I made it through Thought sure I'd end up dead Chorus God rest his soul, and his broken heart "Time has ticked a heaven 'round the stars." Watch over me now, wherever you are Probably drinking whiskey in the Sweet Hereafter Bar There's angels in the atmosphere Crying sympathetic tears To wash away our doubts and fears And help us on our way I used to run from their concern Light the bridge and watch it burn I took a while, at last I learned That ain't the only way . . . Chorus