My body's in this room with you just catchin' hell,
while my soul is drinkin' beer down the road a spell.
You might think I'm listenin' to your grocery list,
but I'm leanin' on the jukebox and I'm about half-pissed.

I'm sittin' on a chair just behind my ear,
playin' dominoes an' drinkin' ice-cold beer.
When you get done talkin' I'll come back downstairs
and assume the body of the person you presume who cares.