If I read about Paris, I wont read about dying
And If I talk about Loo, I won't talk about you
And there's bourbon in my belly
And a hurting in my head
My friend says he doesn't wanna live
I said; I'd rather be dead
And this is what it sounds like in my head
When I'm alone
And this is what feels like to be dead to be alone
And if I sing songs about you, I can make it through the day
If I lose my voice I'll have to find another way
I'd probably put bourbon in my belly
Just to get you out of my head
Drink until you came back to me then crawl into our bed