Some folks seem diminished by their sobriety
They are only free to be what they will be
When they are rocking an alcoholic buzz

Two to ten shots and the tension disappears

The clouded confusion of human consciousness

The self-control that confines them
Behind an illusionary mask made up of society’s expectation
Seems to find itself in the process of evaporation

The patience they practice daily fades

Their motor and verbal skills become equally lacking

So that the primal beast beneath blinks and breaths
Finally free to come out to play in its’ own clumsy way

But with the morning toilet commune
The victorious vomiting return
The mask slides back on
The fun guy is gone
And it’s back to business as usual