The Grant Street House Lyrics

Natty cans stacked on the floor

Ain't no one sober anymore

At the Grant Street House

Where the freaks all stay

We drink all night

And we sleep all day

Ain't a job in sight

But we scrape on through

No damn clue what we're gonna do

Welcome to the madhouse

Where the Natty flows

The Grant Street weirdos

Hell anything goes

Barely make it to work

But we sure as hell try

Drown our sorrows 'til the bottle's dry

There's crazy Tim

Always half in a daze

Stumblin' round in a drunk-ass haze

Velma's on the porch with a bottle of gin

Soakin' golden raisins in it

Cause she heard it's good for your health

Welcome to the madhouse

Where the Natty flows

The Grant Street weirdos

Hell anything goes

Barely make it to work

But we sure as hell try

Drown our sorrows 'til the bottle's dry

We don't care

No shame

No doubt

Just another drink

Then we pass the hell out

Welcome to the madhouse

Where the Natty flows

The Grant Street weirdos

Hell anything goes

Barely make it to work

But we sure as hell try

Drown our sorrows 'til the bottle's dry

Crazy Tim got pulled over on his bike

Looks like another DUI

Now he's fired from the laundromat

He's learnin' from Maxwell

Sellin' crack on the corner

While Tim's doin' that

His brother Phil stops on by

He's gotta take Velma to the store

But when they're back

It's three 30 packs of Natty Light

Welcome to the madhouse

Where the Natty flows

The Grant Street weirdos

Hell anything goes

Barely make it to work

But we sure as hell try

At the Grant Street House

Where life's a mess

We drink to forget

And we couldn't care less

Oh what a weird place to be

Glad those fools ain't me