Behind, beneath, below a certain
level of intoxication,
hidden like a joyful bundle,
prisoner of inebriation.
If you had the chance,
would you realize
that every bitter drop
is clouding up your eyes?
Yeah, it's clouding up your eyes.
The modicum of sympathy
and portrait from the empathetic,
more than just a head is aching,
now you are apologetic.
Wouldn't have the need to doubt you
if your trappings weren't synthetic.
And if you had the chance,
would you realize
that every bitter drop
is clouding up your eyes?
And if you stop to think,
would you be surprised
that it's clouding up your eyes
and it's raining from your skies?
You'll have to be the one
to let you know
what you already know.
You'll have to be the one
to let you know,
to let you know.
Don't pretend the scapegoat's heavy,
I see little stacked against you.
Don't invent another venom,
self-infliction will prevent you.
By the time you get this message,
some poor notion might expect you.
If you had the chance,
would you realize
that every bitter drop
is clouding up your eyes?
And if you stop to think,
would you be surprised
that every bitter drop
is clouding up your eyes
and it's raining from your skies?
It's clouding up your eyes
and it's draining your supplies.