With a pre-disposition towards alcoholism I gradually stepped to the bar

I said "Help me start drinking and help me stop thinking." 

He said "Son don't you know who you are?"

"Know who I am? Well you know my old man. That's where it comes from I guess."

And he seemed to get angry as he looked right at me and these were the words that he (were) said, 

"God don't love the losers.

God, gives you a choice in what you do here

God is nothing new here."



So his words were spoken, my heart was half broken although there was no one to blame

He covered it well, he was giving me hell for allowing myself not to change

Telling my friends that I'd be better when the next month came along

But September had passed and I still had no cash and the spring was always gone



"God don't love the losers.

God, gives you a choice in what you do here."



Whatever you heard prior

You can only live your life, like a person you'd admire

You can learn it in a bottle, learn it in dream

That the way you see yourself is the way you need to be



Well my head woke up humming, I thought first of running, but it's not like I'm really in shape

When your hours seem empty and your place gets unkempt, see you feel like you just can't escape

You can hear yourself say, I'll stop living this way, I'm a better man, really I am

You wash up your hair, look in the mirror and the shaky road calls you again.



God, don't love the losers

No he don't, no she don't