Write this off as another night,
Spent between Lincoln and the greater south side.
Write me off as another lie,
I'll show you the difference between what's true and what's right…
There's something about another night on the town,
With a keg in the trunk,
And some friends coming down.
We're bound to get lost,
(we're bound to get strung)
On the wings of a dream…
So say what you will about the way that we act,
About the music we like, and as a matter of fact,
It's second to none,
This is the anthem for our beer run…
Send it out, to the summer,
It's not the sun and the sand.
It's those flights to the south,
And the way that we stand,
For those nights, that inspire us to write all these songs,
And the hope for some sunshine, all winter long.
It's a sham—champagne in the morning,
A cruel reminder of,
All the best friends we're adoring,
And the world you've grown to love.
So take some medication,
And prepare for what's ahead,
'Cause each night's an adaptation,
For the standard we have set.
Champagne in the morning,
Anthem for our beer run…