This Year

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

Ahh, listen to the engine whine

I am going to make it through this year

If it kills me

I am going to make it through this year

If it kills me

I played video games in a drunken haze

I was 17 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 a 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 through this year

If it kills me

I drove 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 down-shifted 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 through this year

If it kills me