# # We firts We drank ourselves dry we stoned ourselves high and wound up in somebody's hedge we dosed ourselves close to the edge and over I don't wanna go over I don't wanna go You smoke too much and I'm such a lush together we're quite the disgrace, so You've got that innocent motherly touch and I've got that rosy-cheeked glow We filled up on whiskey, we filled up on wine, we filled up on cinnamon hearts And when we were done took our tingly tongues and licked all our favourite parts (chordiearchive.chordie.com)
