On The Greyhound Sipping The Wachusett Reservoir lyrics

tasting the now so familiar faced favorites of this life, this love at least 16 matching menuscia point fingerprints left only on a tongue it all comes flooding back in bottles capped with talking heads debilitating like heaven in stale beer bullet fume moments you can taste it, be it... bottles capped with talking heads we're drunks more than alcoholics we don't have that many responsibilities we live month-to-month, check-to-check we're just bottles capped with talking heads no kids to abandon, no women depending on us for support we only hurt each other and then forget about it the morning after it's always the morning after