Texty: Damien Dempsey. Party On.

Doing E, doing speed, doing cocaine
Mix it with alcohol and go insane
In the morning the edge of the knife
Where the hell is the bright side of life?

It's a farcical high for a few hours
Then you're blind and you can't see the bright flowers
For the light of a child and the glee
If you splurge then the law you'll agree

Turns you into a shell of what you used to be
All the weeks you're living in a fantasy
Fantasize about the party to come
Then your day life just doesn't seem fun

I'm not telling you how to do your thing
I'm just laying down some facts about indulging
How the shit going 'round can become
Your controller, your dictator, your one

I'm giving it up I swear in the New Year
No more of that for me, you'll see
I'm going to be going straight I can't wait
Until this year is gone, party on

Coming down on the ground in a small house
You're a man but you feel like a small mouse
Not so long ago you felt like a king
Someone give me psychiatrist a ring

We'll have no bread and feel feckin' brain dead
All alone in a room full of E heads
Feel so hollow and sickeningly and worthless
There's no cure in the mosques or the churches

I met strangers who barely six hours ago
Were the best friends I thought I'd ever know
Now they're strangers again 'cos I'm down
And I won't say 'Hello' if I see them in town