Going Out In Style Lyrics - Going Out In Style - Dropkick Murphys

I've seen a lot of sights and traveled many miles 

Shook a thousand hands and seen my share of smiles 

I've caused some great concern and told one too many lies 

And now I see the world through these sad, old, jaded eyes 

So what if I threw a party and all my friends were there? 

Acquaintances, relatives, the girls who never cared 

You'll have a host of rowdy hooligans in a big line out the door 

Side by side with Sister Barbara, Chief Wells and Bobby 'Orr 

I'd invite the Flannigans 

Replace the window you smashed out 

I'd apologize the Sluggo for pissing on his couch 

I'll see Mrs. McAuliffe and so many others soon 

Then I'll say I'm sorry for what I did sleepwalking in her room 

So what if I threw a party and invited Mayor Menino? 

He'd tell you to get a permit 

Well this time Tom I don't think so 

It's a neighborhood reunion 

But now we'd get along 

Van Morrison would be there and he'd sing me one last song 

With a backup band of bass players to keep us up all night 

Three handsome four string troubadours 

And Newton's own Fat Mike 

I'll be in the can having a smoke with Garv and Johnny Fitz 

But there's a back up in the bathroom 

Cause the Badger's got the shits 

You may bury me with an enemy in Mount Calvary 

You can stack me on a pyre and soak me down with whiskey 

Roast me to a blackened crisp and throw me in a pile 

I could really give a shit - I'm going out in style 

You can take my urn to Fenway spread my ashes all about 

Or you can bring me down to Wolly Beach 

And dump the sucker out 

Burn me to a rotten crisp and toast me for a while 

I could really give a shit, I'm going out in style 

Make me up dress me up 

Feed me a big old shot 

Of embalming fluid highballs 

So I don't start to rot 

Now take me to McGreevy's 

I wanna buy one final round 

That cheap prick would peel an orange in his pocket 

Then hurry up and suck 'em down 

If there's a god the girls you loved 

Will all come walking through the door 

Maybe they'll feeld bad for me and this stiff will finally score 

You've got the bed already 

And the nerve and courage too 

Cause I've be slugging from 

A stash of Desi Queally's 1980s 

Bathtub brew 

You may bury me with an enemy in Mount Calvary 

You can stack me on a pyre and soak me down with whiskey 

Roast me to a blackened crisp and throw me in a pile 

I could really give a shit, I'm going out in style 

Spread my ashes all about 

Dump the sucker out 

Toast me for a while 

I'm going out in style