The junk mail keeps pouring in
With a couple of nasty bills mixed in
So you have to go through it all again
To make sure you don't miss 'em.
Out on the road it's the same as before,
It's like selling poetry door to door.
But the girls are not your age anymore
So you can't even kiss 'em.
Hey, hey, the gangs all here.
We're sorta survivin' another year.
Pour out a pull for the dead and dear
And keep their spirits alive.
We're sorta survivin'.
A couple of beers to calm the nerves
Is a couple of pounds on your boyish curves.
Besides, nobody trusts a man that swerves
So you better just skip 'em.
I️ get on stage it's a pretty good crowd
But a couple of ladies are whispering loud.
It takes more than that for me to be cowed
But I️ wish they'd just listen.
Hey, hey, the gang's all here.
We're sorta survivin' another year.
Pour out a pull for the dead and dear
And keep their spirits alive.
We're sorta survivin'.
