Painted Zeros Too Drunk
Every night is a Friday night with a handle of gin
It's okay to blackout, babe
If we just stay in
It's not any fun going home with someone when I wake up the next day
I don't remember anything that I said, so I know I made some terrible mistakes
(Too drunk to function, Too drunk to function)
Hungover for two days straight?
You must like feeling sick
Your memory's a closed gallery with all the pictures titled "non-descript."
Every day can feel this way in the safety of a hungover haze
I don't want to die on a hospital line
I'm so sick of doing this all the time
Too drunk to function
Too drunk to function
You're too drunk to function
You're too drunk to function
Too drunk to function
You're too drunk to function
I'm too drunk to function
Too drunk to function
I'm too drunk to function
We're too drunk to function
Too drunk to function
We're too drunk to function
You cannot get away
Let me follow the roads here again
Burdened with my vice
The vice that sank its roots of suffering at my side as early as the age of reason
And that rises to the sky
Batters me, knocks me down, drags me after it
The last innocence and the last shyness
It has been said
I will not take into my world the betrayals and what disgusts me
Let's move on!
The march, the burden, the desert, boredom, anger
To whom can I sell myself?
Too drunk to function
Too drunk to function
Too drunk to function
I'm too drunk to function
Too drunk to function
I'm too drunk to function
You're living in your mother's house (Too drunk to function)
And sleeping on your father's couch (Too drunk to function)
You don't give them anything (Too drunk to function)
You're too drunk to function
(Too drunk to function)
(You're too drunk to function)
