Letras: Q-factor. A Toast.

No, I'm not missing a great time no matter how many ads you beat over my head.
And no, I don't want the taste in the back of my mouth.
It smells.
It's the smell of my mother's breath and it's the smell of my father's breath and I don't want a drop.
No, I don't want a drop.
No, I don't want a pain reliever.
No, I don't want a sedative.
And I definitely don't want to ever forget that smell.
No.
No, I don't want to fill an image I detest.
And have the smell of broken homes and ruined lives on my breath.
It smells.
So let's raise a glass.
Let's tip the bottle.
Let's drink a toast to all the burnt out lives, left for dead.
Out on the streets under the signs that read,
"And Thanks Again For Your Support."