Bottoms Up

I got skeletons in my closet more than just a few

My demons claw at the surface

Scratching hard, trying to break through

All my life I seen you, queued up, queued up

Offering respite, from everything that screwed up

Flowing free, throughout my family tree

Watered down all the roots, saturated every leaf

And from that comes the belief (comes the belief)

That my daily regimen of drink

Is a rite of passion from generations that's passed down onto me

Socially used to sip, that's how it started out

Then I slowly lost my grip, and the walls came tumbling down