[Verse 1]
We were drinking and having times down by the ocean
Thought of running away, but don't we all?
We had this strange idea we were gonna be famous
But we were too drunk to drive or make that call

[Chorus]
My amigo
Well, his eyes were dead
But he was still writing down the lines
He had a quart in his hand
He said, "I wasn't made for these times"
Amigo, oh, the cemetery

[Verse 2]
In the car garage a couple of dirty dogs
It's sad, but I felt blessed
Amongst the dead, we were at our best
Amigo

[Bridge]
You're still nineteen, you're still hungry
You're still young
You're still nineteen, you're still hungry
You're still fun
You're only nineteen, you're only hungry
You're so dumb
You're still nineteen, you're still hungry
You're still young
[Chorus]
My amigo
Well, his eyes were dead
But he was still writing down the lines
He had a quart in his hand
He said, "I wasn't made for these times"
Amigo
Amigo

[Verse 3]
I see too many young men watered down
I see too many of fires burn out
I was there to see your eyes are tired
And I was there to hear the talk that didn't inspire
You shoulda burned your bills, you shoulda run from the feds
Forgot your name and flushed your meds
You shoulda said the things you heard in you head
There's too many good men living dead
And I don't wanna miss a damn thing
Oh, I'm never gonna miss a damn thing
'Cause signs lead to signs and time's got time
Until there's no time at all
Oh, I don't wanna miss a damn thing

[Outro]
Thanks for coming to my show, oh
Thanks for coming to my, my little piece of work
You never hid in the shadow, I know
We gonna hang out now, we gonna keep it rollin'
We can just go and go and go
We're gonna get in your mother's Honda Pilot
We're gonna drive down the shore of Lake Ontario
Let's just do a lap
We can drive past your car accident when you were eight years old and you got the glass caught in your hand
And you were pickin' it out
We're just gonna drive
Where Uncle Al and Uncle Steve dropped acid together
We're gonna go
We're gonna turn the TV off and we're gonna go
We're gonna throw our phones in the river and we're gonna go
I don't give a fuck what Ted Turner has to say
We're gonna go drive through some old, abandoned college towns in the summer
We're gonna meet some locals
We're gonna stop for a pint
At one of them wooden-exterior restaurants
With a— With a sun goin' down on top of the painted brown roof
We're gonna—
We're just gonna hang out, man, we're gonna forget about it all
You don't need your fuckin' phone
Doesn't matter anymore
Thanks for comin' to my show, oh-ohh-oh
Thanks for comin' to our, our little piece of work
Vancouver, we're the Glorious Sons from Kingston, Ontario, Canada
We love ya!