You wake up every morning,
Head's banging and your mind is drowning,
And you promise yourself,
Last night would be your last drink,

Sometime you make it till noon,
When your feeling big and proud in an empty room,
I should give myself a pat for a good job,
May be a glass full of rocks and a good scotch,

You find yourself back to square one,
Downing bottles like its "day one",
You spring back to where you started,
Waking up in the morning heavy hearted,

You need to decide where to stop,
You need to decide when to turn,
Its a fight that both your hands need to grasp,
Its a either you are all in or you've lost,