we'd sit on the floor
on drunken sunday mornings
picking up pieces of puzzles off the floor
walking around and looking for our clothing
wondering,
just what happened the night before?
because
It hasn't been a party 'til you've called me a dick
and I've called you a whore
you make me wanna make
lampshades over my mind
from the feathers of wild turkeys
and so that's how i came to realize
we are all just ashes
throughout time
in those drunk cold decembers
here's to the fights
here's to the nights that we'll never remember
so tell me again, just what were you expecting?
we'd get breakfast at nine, then we'd catch the mid-day mass?
because all of your points and all of your words inflected
and all of your bitter statements have come to pass
makes me wonder,
did you really think that it was ok?
to make me wanna make
lampshades over my mind
from the feathers of wild turkeys
and so that's how i came to realize
we are all just ashes
throughout time
in those drunk cold decembers
here's to the fights
here's to the nights that we'll never remember
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