'There'll be more for me to drink tomorrow'
That's how I have to reason with myself
Just so I put off a swallow
A liquid, burning, lonesome hell

It's not a girl, not the world,
It's something else; inherited hell
It's in my blood, an acrid smell
another shot, i wrench and curl

And i'm sorry i can't take you on
a journey leading through my life
that illustrates enviromnents
and glorifies my plight

And i'm sorry that the words i use
are overplayed, Know; i would choose
the better ones, the brighter ones
to entertain you while you loose...

any kind of understanding
in who i am and, thus, start branding
me as things i comprehend
as profound, insightful, derelict

but, alas, you will forget me soon
Liken to the evening news
with so many others pushing me
to pursue a 90 proof disease...

i'm fucking drunk..,i'm goin to sleep


  

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