With all the glasses you turn over,
All the misty air you produce,
This will all lead to your fate.
People have died all around you
Of the very disease you share,
Speakers have come from all over to tell you how bad it is,
But you still don't have the desire to put down the bottle.
You turn on the news in the morning
Only to find that another child was killed by a drunk driver
Because they too couldn't put down the bottle before leaving home.
Well one of these days, you'll turn on the news,
Only to see your own face because you passed bad judgment,
And killed a little boy or girl;
Only because you couldn't put down the bottle again that day.
