[Chorus]
Burnt onions and bloody steak
Snake oil and sour grapes
Well, it's a barrel of monkeys
I'm a party of one
Starin' down the barrel of a bottle, like a loaded gun
[Verse 1]
Tequila and coffee
Gatorade and beer
Vodka and cocaine
Whiskey and fear
White wine and 7up
Cough syrup and gin
Callin' my old mother on the telephone again
I said "Mother, your favorite son's coming home
Get my old room ready I'm gonna
Need a place
A place to be alone"
[Chorus]
Burnt onions and bloody steak
Snake oil and sour grapes
Well, it's a barrel of monkeys
I'm a party of one
Wavin' that remote control around the room
Like it was a loaded gun
[Verse 2]
Well it's a comfort me to me
That you photograph so well
As I sit staring at your pictures
Chewin' brimstone, here in hell
My mother stands next to her favorite son
Holdin' a cold wet rag to my head, like a loaded gun
You would laugh to see me jump every time that she coughs
But some day, baby, that cold wet rag, like a loaded gun
Is gonna go off
[Chorus]
Burnt onions and bloody steak
Snake oil and sour grapes
Well, it's a barrel of monkeys
I'm a party of one
Staring down the barrel of a bottle, like a loaded gun
I'm holdin' the telephone receiver to my head
Like it was a loaded gun
Yeah, I'm holdin' the telephone receiver to my head
Like it was a loaded gun
Burnt onions and bloody steak
Snake oil and sour grapes
Well, it's a barrel of monkeys
I'm a party of one
Starin' down the barrel of a bottle, like a loaded gun
[Verse 1]
Tequila and coffee
Gatorade and beer
Vodka and cocaine
Whiskey and fear
White wine and 7up
Cough syrup and gin
Callin' my old mother on the telephone again
I said "Mother, your favorite son's coming home
Get my old room ready I'm gonna
Need a place
A place to be alone"
[Chorus]
Burnt onions and bloody steak
Snake oil and sour grapes
Well, it's a barrel of monkeys
I'm a party of one
Wavin' that remote control around the room
Like it was a loaded gun
[Verse 2]
Well it's a comfort me to me
That you photograph so well
As I sit staring at your pictures
Chewin' brimstone, here in hell
My mother stands next to her favorite son
Holdin' a cold wet rag to my head, like a loaded gun
You would laugh to see me jump every time that she coughs
But some day, baby, that cold wet rag, like a loaded gun
Is gonna go off
[Chorus]
Burnt onions and bloody steak
Snake oil and sour grapes
Well, it's a barrel of monkeys
I'm a party of one
Staring down the barrel of a bottle, like a loaded gun
I'm holdin' the telephone receiver to my head
Like it was a loaded gun
Yeah, I'm holdin' the telephone receiver to my head
Like it was a loaded gun
![[MV] Dreamcatcher「PIRI～笛を吹け～-Japanese ver.-」](https://img.youlistener.com/upl2/public/664/711/ddd/ZOsu__wtD30.jpg)
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