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lyrics

There's half a bottle gone
I don't feel any better
I think I'll go on home
I think I lost my sweater

The Russian soldier's dying in the snow
Giving up can be the noblest way to go

I'm sick to death of the radio
I hear your lies in stereo
You can't fool me with the tales you tell
'Cause I know these songs too well

I'm slipping in the slush
And bumping into parked cars
I think I hurt my leg
Will that leave a big scar

Can't see a thing through this mop of hair
Don't want to whine but this just isn't fair

Booze isn't gonna help
Learned that the hard way last night
The cops made me explain
Why I'd climbed the street light

They all saw you break my heart in two
Like people watching feeding time at the zoo


I'm sick to death of the radio
I hear your lies in stereo
You can't fool me with the tales you tell
'Cause I know these songs too well

credits

from By The Time We're Through, released September 2, 2011
Written by Allen Duarte

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The Pickpockets Chicago, Illinois

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