Olde(y) tyme(y)

And I am drained
Of what was named
Self-respect

If the bridge that I was driving over
Collapsed while I was driving over it
That may not be such a bad thing

I would finally meet my maker
I could meet the great creator
And I'd punch him for teaching me how to sing

And my body would be at the bottom
Of a lake in West Virginia
Instead of the bottom of this bottle that I drink

I don't have a drinking problem
Don't have a drinking solution
I don't think I ever learned to think

And no one knows
What it's like to be
Anybody but themselves

No one
No one
No one else