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(Vic Chesnutt)sitting in a square roommy voice is freezingand the beams that are bouncing off the moonare hanging from my window like iciclesjust a tired old alcoholic, waxing bucolicshivering and homesickstaring at a wooden floorstaring at a wooden floorlast night I nearly killed myselfchasing rum with rumthere were crows flying all around my headand I sure caught and ate me someit's funny how I alienatedthose who I was trying just soso hard to impressnow half those fuckers hate meand I'm just a fool to all the restwhy do I insist on drinking myself to the gravewhy do I dream about cozy coffinI had all these plans of great things to accomplishbut I end up purely pathetic more than often
(Vic Chesnutt)sitting in a square roommy voice is freezingand the beams that are bouncing off the moonare hanging from my window like iciclesjust a tired old alcoholic, waxing bucolicshivering and homesickstaring at a wooden floorstaring at a wooden floorlast night I nearly killed myselfchasing rum with rumthere were crows flying all around my headand I sure caught and ate me someit's funny how I alienatedthose who I was trying just soso hard to impressnow half those fuckers hate meand I'm just a fool to all the restwhy do I insist on drinking myself to the gravewhy do I dream about cozy coffinI had all these plans of great things to accomplishbut I end up purely pathetic more than often