We drop by giving up the laughs galore
But when it’s time to go we’re solo out the door
It always hits us in the ass on the way
Makes us feel we’re alive
or at least okay
I ain't might be gain, but feeling good’s the goal
This cat’s pushing number eight
He’s got nothing to lose

The damned don’t cry ‘til the fire flies
They got nothing to lose
This snake’s eyeing his behind
He’s got nothing to lose
Yeah we’ve got nothing to lose

Squaresville, squaresville is the only place
you won’t find on our treasure map of deep disgrace
Well-oh-well rounded’s our aim
Continental, sentimental
usually disdained
We land standing on life number eight


Lyrics submitted by drew23235

Continental Cats song meanings
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