With a pre-disposition towards alcoholism I gradually stepped to the bar
I said "Help me start drinking and help me stop thinking."
He said "Son don't you know who you are?"
"Know who I am? Well you know my old man. That's where it comes from I guess."
And he seemed to get angry as he looked right at me and these were the words that he (were) said,
"God don't love the losers.
God, gives you a choice in what you do here
God is nothing new here."
So his words were spoken, my heart was half broken although there was no one to blame
He covered it well, he was giving me hell for allowing myself not to change
Telling my friends that I'd be better when the next month came along
But September had passed and I still had no cash and the spring was always gone
"God don't love the losers.
God, gives you a choice in what you do here."
Whatever you heard prior
You can only live your life, like a person you'd admire
You can learn it in a bottle, learn it in dream
That the way you see yourself is the way you need to be
Well my head woke up humming, I thought first of running, but it's not like I'm really in shape
When your hours seem empty and your place gets unkempt, see you feel like you just can't escape
You can hear yourself say, I'll stop living this way, I'm a better man, really I am
You wash up your hair, look in the mirror and the shaky road calls you again.
God, don't love the losers
No he don't, no she don't