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take with ibuprofen - inolonger lyrics

[hook 1]
i’m on the border of alcoholic
pass by my days with jameson
i’m on the south side and hobbling
trying to wash down pain and sin

[verse 1]
i’m a melancholy and a shrew
there’s really nothing else to say or lose
and all i ever seem to wanna do
is lay in bed and watch the pain subdue me
i mix my coffee with a shot or few
and take my medication just like you
but my jaw is always apt to scream
and taking stage almost becomes a scene
i’m working daily on the day and night
hardly a day where i can dream or fight
and all my joints are slowly k!lling me
i work too much to ever go to sleep
i maybe ponder if i’m good as dead
oft troubled just to lift my head
and it’s always something i said
that justifies getting scammed again

[hook 2]
struggling to keep my words from falling
guitar feels like a pillow talking me
too long are faces not forgotten
i take my memories with ibuprofen
dull gray on the ins and out, cl!ck
machine punching through a heavy gaseous fume
can’t hearsay sh*t with my plugs and glasses
almost hard to breathe a moment’s due
[verse 2]
twelves on twelves, i want my cash to talk it
can’t make plans cause i can’t do walking
smell’s too bad but i can’t get washing
there’s no d*mn time between a sh*t and the next shift
and too d*mn bad, my bill is due on the fifth
no time to stop, no time to lay in bed sick
my hands might scream, but don’t let the scr*pes get
a medical emergency is just a pay hit
and who can get insurance cause the stacks are racking
if i break my hand again, i’ll just pencil wrap it
and if i get caught, i’ll just have to cap it
move across the state line, forget the last bit
and f*** this song, i’ll sell it off to disney
i’ll sell my shirts for cheap, and i’ll write for whiskey
have a couple car*bombs an try to get sleep
before my government decides to f***ing fist me

[hook 3]
i miss a ghost, it’s like their words are stalking
i missed the roast, and i ain’t got cash to spend
put in a day and hope my pay will land it
get another bottle an i hope to down it quick
cause my medication doesn’t seem to do sh*t
i can’t move my hands and i can’t seem to focus
a day in the foundry, i found no reason
a day in the factory, and d*mn, it’s nothing less
a season in the coffee shop, i can’t think often
a month working postage and i think too much on death
i’m a melancholy pessimist
and i think i missed the point of it

- inolonger lyrics

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