Treetops spinning at the outskirts of my vision   In the back yard of a stranger on the edges of my mind   I lay broken with my belly up to heaven, I guess   Drinking hard for seven days can turn your blue eyes blind      Held that tragic destiny   Like a puppet on my knee   Blurred the line 'tween him and me   And nearly lost my soul      'till I realized I could   Get that puppet, get him good   I used that doll for kindling wood   To warm me from the cold      Chorus:   Oh my Dylan Thomas days are finally over   I'm through with all those self-destructive ways   And though I ain't exactly clean at least I'm sober   I made it through my Dylan Thomas days      Lord have mercy, it's a sunny, Sunday morning   And I am not in a coma and there's nothing I regret   I did not wake up thirsty or to the sound of my own snoring   And the not so faint aroma of tequila on my breath      What a concept, can it be?   I feel a little like Dorothy   When she woke up and found that she   Was safe in her own bed      But oh that nightmare sure seemed true   And you were there and you were too   I don't know how I made it through   Thought sure I'd end up dead      Chorus      God rest his soul, and his broken heart   "Time has ticked a heaven 'round the stars."   Watch over me now, wherever you are   Probably drinking whiskey in the Sweet Hereafter Bar      There's angels in the atmosphere   Crying sympathetic tears   To wash away our doubts and fears   And help us on our way      I used to run from their concern   Light the bridge and watch it burn   I took a while, at last I learned   That ain't the only way . . .      Chorus