So it’s the last time, I fucking swear it. No matter how many times I’m gonna have to say it before it’s the truth, Before it’s the truth, ‘cause I have to. ‘Cause the ink from my pen, oh, it dries permanent, and it makes it harder to forget. And I’ve been waiting for the weekend so I can feel good about my drinking. Try not to lie; try not to lie, at least not when I write. ‘Cause the ink in my skin, your word is ever there. It’s a broken promise to never drink again, ‘Cause I kicked the habit of being abstinent and I fought off years of each cigarette.