Anchored

We graduate from park benches, sink a couple in between

We stroll on in the bar's entrance, as if there's something in our genes

This is what we inherited from the old men in checkered shirts

And their father's fathers before them, oh no, we are not the first

Sorrows drowned in seas of amber, drifting from emotion

For grief or stress or happiness, we've learnt to crack another open

Drink it, drink it, drink it up now

Drink it, drink it, drink it down

Drink it, drink it, drink it up now

Drink it, drink it, drink it

We drink cos we have problems, we have problems cos we drink