Purgatory

He's a lush
He's a prick
He's a hypochondriac
Who never called in sick

No plans just bitter ends
Dust cloud is growing then
No way I sort things out
No one will cut him down

Turn of the century we
Got us a zealot
Follow suit in our youth
Never understand it

No plans just bitter ends
Dust cloud is growing thin
No way I sort things out
No one will cut him down

Goddamn right now you feel guilty
You're goddamn right