T.S.R. (This Shit Rules)

The party's over... A CD's skipping... It's the same hook repeating... Grows more grating with each passing second... And the walls contain a resonation, Laughter, and conversation. It was fun while it lasted, but now we should be going. And I hope everybody had a real, real good time. The hospitality's partaken, My head is flying. My heart's racing to keep up. And I hope I havent overdone it, no... I hope my body can take it. I hope I make the the occasion. It's only this fucked up I start realizing all this living is just dying. And if these are my friends, If this is my home, If this is how I spend my nights, How I communicate, and demonstrate a love of life. My eyes roll into the back of my head, If these are the last words that I ever said No, I'm not ready to die just yet.