This Year (Demo)

Two, three, four

I broke free on a Saturday morning
I put the pedal to the floor
Headed north on Mills Avenue
And listened to the engine roar

My broken house behind me
And good things ahead
A girl named Cathy
Wants a little of my time
Six cylinders underneath the hood
Crashing and kicking
Aha! Listen to the engine whine

I am going to make it through this year
If it kills me
I am going to make it though this year
If it kills me

I played video games in a drunken haze
I was seventeen years young
Hurt my knuckles punching the machines
The taste of Scotch rich on my tongue

And then Cathy showed up
And we hung out
Trading swigs from the bottle
All bitter and clean
Locking eyes
Holding hands
Twin high maintenance machines

I am going to make it through this year
If it kills me
I am going to make it though this year
If it kills me

I came home in the California dusk
I could feel the alcohol inside of me hum
Pictured the look on my stepfather's face
Ready for the bad things to come

I downshifted
As I pulled into the driveway
The motor screaming out
Stuck in second gear
The scene ends badly
As you might imagine
In a cavalcade of anger and fear
There will be feasting and dancing
In Jerusalem next year

I am going to make it through this year
If it kills me
I am going to make it though this year
If it kills me