forget about green bottlesnyou can lend me some money, if you wantnand all those fast paced ndrinking friends of yoursnare all sitting around ntrying to remember the good times nthat they forgotncigarette smoke like a weatherfrontnashtrays and guitars, misunderstoodnand i feel like playing pool below the treelinenlet's get out a map, pretend that we couldnnwreckless afternoons with chainsaw fiddle playersnwatch your step, buddy, that's my sister you're talking tonriding the late night subway cattle carsncrashing on the kitchen table nwith people eating breakfast around youndrawing the last straw in a sunrise gunfightnworking class neighbors waking up to younand coughing up the wrong treenhey yeah, you'll be alrightnand if you ever get up before tennthere ain't nothing you can't donnbut skydive homenleave all the answers to your intelligent friendsnand you're always one stepnfrom being one step over the edgennnow its way too late to be out and the band sucksnrunning up a tired 'twist and shout'nthe winds in the trees and the smokes on the waternand knocking over all those chairs ain't no way to impress herncrooked teeth darling with dirty fingernailsnoutlaws and gunslingers, boots (?) bar railsnand lets turn out the lights, sonngive me another slow songncrashing on the cornernall the cops telling you to move along