Testo di Sitting Up With a Sick Friend

Oil on canvas, cigar-smoking mobster A worried old dog with his nose in the crossword Deep in the valley, awake on the couch It hangs over my head all night, creeping me out I have to figure out how to get rid of this stuff And I know that you used to like it so much Even called it a classic and that still blows my mind I don't know why I don't know why I had my head on your lap on the roof of this house Tipped-back bottle of vodka connecting the clouds Never worried about making anyone's list Do whatever you want 'cause God doesn't exist You chose the west side after the divorce Your dad rented this bungalow on a golf course And sometimes you wish you'd just randomly die I don't know why It sounds alright to me I don't know why Used to squint at my palm and say: Long life ahead of you Then spit in my hand and add: Also a swimming pool Joked that you already knew you were next In a long line of people who just never left this town Rich people love to say they had it rough I know I had a lot but it wasn't enough Do you think that that makes me a bad guy? I don't know I don't know, am I? I don't know