Band: Woodbox Gang
Album: White Trash Voodoo
Drunk On Sunday
VERSE 1
Drunk on Sunday I opened the mailbox
Stuffed with a week s worth of junk coupons and waste
Reusing the grounds that made yesterday s coffee
Reminds me of how coffee should never taste
VERSE 2
Bare walls echo piercing barks from evil hound dogs
No plush sofas or thick rugs deaden the shrill
Caked with unknown substances dishes are piled
Next to empty beer cans and unpaid water bills
CHORUS
Once I had money and ruled in my kingdom
Alone in a castle so tall
But you struggle to get it and you suffer to keep it
And it s better to have nothing at all
VERSE 3
Phone is silent except for the salesman
Who work on commission alone in the grind
Ten thousand cold calls and one might be a winner
Ten thousand cold days they will have in their time
VERSE 4
Dark depression long masked as ambition
A shot through the head self inflicted months prior
Allowed this existence I relish to prosper
And brought soothing apathy I d long desired