morning dusts a cool blue
like a chalk on a pool cue
it's all clicking like the ice cubes, in my glass
the splash of a tin roofs raindrop, bone dry when all the pain stops
it always burns my throat
as the pride is swallowed
from the bottom of the bottle to the barrel of a gun
i could take a shot for you
i will never run
i won't run out (2x)
i'm like the bar full of rum, or the room full of doubt
a sky at sundown or a watered down cloud
i won't ever run out