Worst At The Best Of Times Lyrics

You're the best of singers with whiskey and wine You play your part to perfection They wake you up and tell you it's time for bed But there is no question of letting this run any more
The cigarette's burning your fingers There's too much wine on the floor And more, and more, and more You're the best, the worst, the best
Now move, you've made a great art of wasting your time You're the national treasure for madness But birds that sing without leaving their trees Are prone to delusional grandness
And don't let this run anymore Come down from your branch while you're able There's too much blood on the floor And more, and more, and more You're the best, the worst, the best
Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up, get up Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up, get up Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up, get up Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up, get up
Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up, get up Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up, get up Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up, get up Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up, get up, get up
You're the best, the worst, the best You're the best, the worst, the best You're the best, the worst, the worst at the best of time Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh