My poor liver
We're true drinking mates
Hard work I am the giver
And it deteriorates
My poor eyes
Can't see straight anymore
I can't figure out why
He never looked this good before
My poor brain
Can't think too well
The thing's being drained
Cell by cell
My poor stomach
Switching gears to reverse
If I don't hold back
I'll have a mess in my purse
My poor head
The room's tipping no doubt
Just find me a bed
So I can pass out
Tomorrow I'll be in Hangover City
If I even make it to the morning light
I'm going to feel really shitty -
Man, I can't wait to drink again tomorrow night!
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