Battling the Bottle (Fighting the Flab, at War with the World) Songtext

von Jim Bob

Battling the bottle, fighting the flab,
At war with the world
Battling the bottle, fighting the flab
At war with the world

Everybody ran when they heard the sound
Of handgun fire in the centre of town
I didn't know her name, but I knew the face
Of the sports personality who started the race

I was a long way away from my personal best
With scotch on my breath and the front of my vest
And now my wife's left and she's taken the kids
I really know what long-distance loneliness is

Battling the bottle, fighting the flab,
At war with the world
Battling the bottle, fighting the flab
At war with the world

This is the closest thing I've ever come to being a tourist
In forty years of living here I never got around to it
I've never seen the curve of the Admiralty Arch
Or the sailors who served on the Cutty Sark

Ten miles in, and I'm feeling the pain
A jazz band's playing and it's starting to rain
The bunions and blisters are like stones in my shoes
And I've already spent the sponsor money on booze

Battling the bottle, fighting the flab,
At war with the world
Battling the bottle, fighting the flab
At war with the world

After two hours fifty-nine, I hit the wall
My six month's training meant nothing at all
Beached like a whale with my gut in my hands
I tried and I failed as a marathon man

In less than a week, I'd be putting away
My get-up-and-go will have got up and gone
And I'd be back down low where I started from

Battling the bottle, fighting the flab,
At war with the world