Fast Times At Farwell House
Another wasted Wednesday night
At a house on the East Side
Taking pulls straight off a bottle of whatever I can find
This place on Farwell is a trap
Something always goes off track
The nights are soaked in beer and insincere
I keep on coming back
Cause every night it's all the same
Kill a pack of cigarettes
And drinking games
I'm not really into dancing on the table in your living room
I'm really sick of hanging out with all these fucking shirtless dudes
So maybe, I've been living in a dive bomb
Yeah maybe, there's something I've been running from