Well the party's no fun if you're not drinking
And the bar is no fun if you're flyin' straight
Sittin' in the corner with a pen and paper
Like a journalist with a deadline date.
Got an old suitcase full of journals,
And I used to try to use them as a reference point.
Now I kinda realize that I run in circles,
Run in circles with a black ballpoint.
Well, I've got an idea, if you wanna try it.
Meet me in the yard by the barbeque pit.
We can take everything that we've ever written,
Make a great big pile and take a match to it.
We'll have a journal-burning party.
We'll get a clean slate, honey,
At the journal-burning party.
See, we'll write it down and then we'll burn it up.
We're going page for page
Up into flames.
March 28, 1993.
Those words mean nothing to me.
November 5th, 1994.
I don't wanna read it no more.
You see, I tried to reflect,
It just made me depressed.
So let's have a journal burning party.
We'll get a clean slate, honey.
I always wanted to write a song
And say "come on",
So come on.