Making money at thirty, with a wife and a son
Then a short five years later, it all comes undone
She's gone back to mama with the boy by her side
Now I'm wine drunk and running with them on my mind

I'm on the backside of thirty, and back on my own
An empty apartment don't feel like a home
On the backside of thirty, the short side of time
Back on the bottom, with no will to climb

It's dawn Monday morning, and I just called in sick
I skipped work last Friday, to drink this month's rent
And when my friends ask me, I'll tell them I'm fine
But my eyes tell the story, that my lies can't hide

I'm on the backside of thirty, and back on my own
An empty apartment don't feel like a home
On the backside of thirty, the short side of time
Back on the bottom with no will to climb

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