Holding fast until the rent checks wear thin,   Because it hasn't sunk in... so far.      Well it's a drab routine, the dust starts building,   Until it's hard to come clean.      Then nine months stack up to an addictive crutch,    As if the drink weren't enough.   A stagger cannot compete.    There's no charm in the residential state street.      And if I was sober,   Would I kill caution and stay over?   And if I was sober,   Would I rip hearts apart like paper?      I wish you could know better than you show,   With parted lips pointing down.   That the whiskey soothes more than you could ever do.      And if I was sober,   Would I kill caution and stay over?   And if I was sober,   Would I rip hearts apart like paper?      And what a difference it'd make.   And what a difference it'd make.      And if I was sober,   Would I kill caution and stay over?   And if I was sober,   Would I rip hearts apart like paper?      And what a difference it'd make.   And what a difference it'd make.