Jonny October - Whisky Waltz lyrics

[Hook: Jonny October] Don't drink that, you dingbat You're plenty f**ed up Your syntax is muddy, it's slush You're bloody useless Buddy you'd blush It used to be funny It's no longer funny to us [Verse 1: Jonny October] Long bu*ter-bu*terscotch on the rocks Somebody better talk to the cops Dummy done threw one or two Too many brews through his chewy chops Cruise on the set Dude I'm a vet It's cool let me wreck Puke, not just booze on your breath Lace up your shoes, um, and step So officer, corrupt he Corruptly, on my nuts, be Illegally rummaging through my couple things For some Dutchies No crack (Nope) no sack (Nope) Just bu*t-cheese in fact But I got unlucky Cause Jack had to have an acid flashback (The f**ing Gestapo!) Stop no, it's a cop bro Shut your yop-hole, 'fore they spot those Sticky little twisted Phillie Sixers [?] Busy sticking out your sock-folds Octo' is an upstanding citizen Fuzz, he buzzed off the officers With such fancy synonyms Even sin like sweet cinnamon Drink Guinness for strength Drink Guinness for vitamins Buddy better get a ride home Cause his eyes don't focus Like an old dusty Kodak with no cap But it go bust [?] Like mugshots and such Like cumshots on s*uts More like Honey's mad young And like umm, stop don't touch God, you're a dickhead And addicted To a liquid Better hit bed or admit dead Is the next step on your sick quest Yes, yes, yes [Hook] [Verse 2: Jonny October] Hung-over morning eyes bloodshot No motion but the ride don't stop Tongue cotton, from the concoction Of the rum, coughing up a lung Go hock - patooey I truly feel woozy There's no one next to me But I'd swear I was roofied Man, what a damn nocturne It's sad but I can-not learn Lie flat among trashcans Last chances and rot-worms I'm thirsty, I'm blind Not quite conscious on all fours I search for my mind all my thoughts are like foghorns (Errr) - In the distance And I inference that I'm gonna pity my existence When the binge lifts My constituent's gonna litigate and make an inquest 'Till I confess that my sins test The limits of their better interests The grim threat of impending In-depth discussions of the come-up In substances abused Like the booze and the trust of my dudes Bucking whose luck could keep producing brews [?] Such a lethal game of roulette That I'm not doomed yet, a bufoon Yes I'll cocoon, and emerge Freshen up my tune Lesson learned I'm birthed anew Sex and d** and curses too I'll bid you a curt adieu I'll do like the clergy do Work I'm not allergic to Persevere, I'll nurse a beer Like 'Mercy dear, let's turn in, boo'