O' Rourke's, 1:20 A.M. Letra

Holding hands between bar stools

And you're holding your tongue



Hold on

You're so fucked up, so fickle

Isn't this what you want?

So simple, so single



But it's different when you're helpless

When the bars close their doors

Growing hostile toward your waitress

Those extra tips went ignored



It's different because you're desperate

Begging mercy on the sidewalk

To a sea of last callers

(Keep the conversation quick and keep them interested)



You're different and they sense it

Your eyes can't disguise it

So glassy, half empty

Ready to spill



Hold on

Please don't leave yet

I can't go home alone

It doesn't go over so well



So hold on just a little longer

At least through the night

At least until the morning



Hold on

Hold on to me

I can hardly stand

Much less the sight of myself



So hold on

Hold on tight, dear

Put your foot on the gas

Get me the fuck out of here