So you've replaced the cheap cider
With a bottle of posh champagne,
But does it have the same effect,
Does it still make you go insane?
And the parties you go to now
I heard are classier than they once were.
Yet you'll still wake up the next morning,
With everything a drunken blur.
You try to forget and move on,
From the guy you used to be.
Who always found himself trouble,
Who could never, ever be free.
You still don't have your freedom,
You are still on the same cursed lane.
It may be encrusted with gold,
But it will still cause us so much pain.