oak creek merlot and that great american spirit it tastes like midnight to me a torn up couch cushion and raccoons on the wall you can hear an engine blowing out its steam i ll remember back to days when we were living like kings in confined spaces we made the best of where this cursed time had placed us we gave up on all we knew could keep us afloat we traded life vests for wood a leg up meant we all came along we built trust and we drank hard and we lost friends and we wrote songs and by the by we split and chose our different sides if no one s wrong and no one s right i d be surprised remember back to days when we were it could have been clean but you scraped off all the sheen its what you do to everything you re small time you re a featherweight fighter with his head on the line play it down you can give up now