Text: The Good Life. O' Rourke's, 1:20 A.m..

It's different when you're lonely
The whole world's in love
Holding hands between bar stools
And you're holding your tongue

Hold on
You're so fucked up, so fickle
Isn't this what you want?
So simple, so single

But it's different when you're helpless
When the bars close their doors
Growing hostile toward your waitress
Those extra tips went ignored

It's different because you're desperate
Begging mercy on the sidewalk
To a sea of last callers
(Keep the conversation quick and keep them interested)

You're different and they sense it
Your eyes can't disguise it
So glassy, half empty
Ready to spill

Hold on
Please don't leave yet
I can't go home alone
It doesn't go over so well

So hold on just a little longer
At least through the night
At least until the morning

Hold on
Hold on to me
I can hardly stand
Much less the sight of myself

So hold on
Hold on tight, dear
Put your foot on the gas
Get me the fuck out of here