The last ones up become lovers   The last ones up become lovers      The last ones up become lovers   The last ones up become lovers   The last ones up become lovers      The last ones up become lovers      I just got back from a bender   The skin on my back all scratched up in splinters   I spent the night in the right field bleachers      Met up with six stick tweakers   And a seventh grade teacher   Said it didn't matter   Said school's out for the summer      And the nightclubbers bounce like rubber   And they bounce into sweaty slumber   Sharing wine like they did at the last supper      The last ones up become lovers   The last ones up become lovers   The last ones up, they always become lovers      And if the night is a storm   And then it washed us ashore      Woke up in the grandstand   Poking holes with a hair pin   Through a flattened out Sprite can   We make our pipes with whatever we can, man      We've got nails through our hands   And alcoholic tans   I've got good friends in bad bands   I know bad guys in great bands      It starts out under the guise of a back rub   And the last ones awake,    They always make love   And the last ones awake,   They always seem to make love      It starts out with a back rub   And the last ones awake,    They always seem to make love   The last ones awake,   They always make love      And it starts with a back rub   And it ends up in backlash   And it starts with an eyelash   And it ends with a thrashing      And it starts out high fashion   And it ends up in rags   And it starts out with pony bags   And it ends up on scales      And it starts out with consumption and possession   But always exercising a little bit of discretion   And it ends up in sales      We started out going out on the town   We ended up stuck at home waiting to come down   We started out chasing our dreams   We ended up getting chased all over by our nightmares   And now we're sending up flares      We're breaking off the flame guards   On disposable lighters   We're scroungers, not fighters   We're hookers not lovers      Forty days and forty nightclubbers   Forty days and forty nightclubbers      And the last ones up become lovers