Last Call At The Dolly

Alright so this is it,
I’ve finally had enough of hanging ‘round here
feeling sorry for myself.
It’s almost been 5 years of trying
just enough to keep from feeling
bad enough about myself to question
what went wrong.
It’s like I woke up from a dream,
and I was trapped inside a bottle,
and part of me had been shot off and boarded up and,
Here I am, all the choices I never make,
and the chances I never take,
the steps I wish I could retrace.
But I’m not giving up, no I’m not giving up.
Until the day my eyes roll back into my head,
until I choke on my last breath,
until no one remembers a single
God [bad word] thing I’ve ever said or done.
But I woke up from my dream,
and I threw away the bottle,
and everything I boarded up came pouring out then.
The sky has never looked so clear,
through bloodshot eyes without the fear of letting go,
of moving on and walking on my own.
Here I am, all the choices I never make,
and the chances I never take, the steps I wish I could retrace.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
This is a trap, the life we lead, the life we lead’s a lie.
We owe ourselves much more than what we now accept.
Until the day our eyes roll back,
until we choke on our last breath,
until no one remembers, until no one remembers.
(Here I am) All the choices I never make,
and the chances I never take, the steps I wish I could retrace.
(Here I am) All the choices I never make,
and the chances I never take, the steps I wish I could retrace.