Lyrics

Making money at thirty with a wife and a son Then a short five years later it all comes undone She's gone back to mama with the boy by her side Now I'm wine drunk and running with them on my mind I'm on the backside of thirty and back on my own An empty apartment don't feel like a home On the backside of thirty, the short side of time Back on the bottom with no will to climb It's dawn Monday morning and I just called in sick I skipped work last Friday to drink this much red And when my friends ask me, Lord, I'll tell them I'm fine But my eyes tell a story that my lies can't hide I'm on the backside of thirty and back on my own An empty apartment don't feel like a home On the backside of thirty, the short side of time Back on the bottom with no will to climb We knew we had problems with no chance to win Pretended we'd make it, does she have the kid? And he made life better for two years or more But now, weekends between us will be his reward I'm on the backside of thirty and back on my own An empty apartment don't feel like a home On the backside of thirty, the short side of time Back on the bottom with no will to climb
Writer(s): John W. Conlee Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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