Unraveling Secrets Behind the Final Farewell: What Really Happens at Last Orders?
Drunken words stagger out through saloon door mouths
and the world in the long-term is not where I would want to live.
I spout off a load of nonsense my predecessors would be proud of
but they have nothing left to give.
Have you ever wanted to go back to who you were?
Got sick to death of those nostalgia freaks?
I’m stuck somewhere in the middle and answer most people with duh.
I used to like a speak-easy but that’s not the answer and alcohol wreaks.
I’m going to have to get up early tomorrow for a flight
and it’s getting towards the small hours of the night.
If I don’t make it out the door in the morning
don’t worry, they’ll be someone ringing a last orders dring-a-long a-dring-dring.
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