Dear Mr first name only somethings ya do dont really
make sense.
But even a drunk like me has to say it's enough.
Cause my drunk *** cant even stand let alone  strattle a fence.

Points was  the first straw  my invisable friend.
To make ten comments for a point.
Well i got far better things to do with my weekend.

And one night as from the bar i did crawl.
Thought i was just drunk off my ***.
But dam if ya didnt take down the wall.

But it's okay cause if ya wanna be on the list
you can always buy a place.
Ya know your dealing with poets right?
Hey some kid just took his parents credit card
and stole my place.

Mr Elliot  should i stay silent in fear.
It's hard to shut a good drunk up.
Was it you that put that horse head in my bed
and drank all my beer?

And while certin people gave us the name
they gave my foggy mind a idea to.
If ya keep us going at each other  then
that keeps us fom going after you.

Mr Elliot  please dont  read this and
make me dissapear.
For I'll take refuge  in my pub.
hide behind the women  and gaurd the rear.

Yes im the ressident ******* and clown.
The bartender to the masses.
Who preaches drink up and get down.

If it aint broke Mr Elliot lets **** with it till   it  is.
Let me hand ya a beer.
Shake it up good and watch it fizz.

Hello I hope this isnt goodbye.
Cause it just aint  much fun without Gonzo.
Im a drunk a *** a nut a pervert and a pretty nice guy.

Dear Mr Elliot sending me away wasnt  very nice.
When i think vacation  I think sun and sand.
Not the north pole  hey were the ***** santa?
Well  least for my drinks i got pleanty of ice.

From behind the bar I recall what led me here.
Not to see people fight over  spots on a board.
But to bring them togather as friends.
Not drive them apart as enimies.

To see the glass stay  full.
And the spirts to bring cheer.
Jokes hold truth.
As the jester I know pain.

Smells of perfume and smoke beautiful eye's
and that invisable desire.
We dance in hope of capturing life.

To embrace in darkness.
The page can never capture the passion
of two lovers spark.

From behind the bar  I see life
for more than what others belive  it is.
Jokes comfort as the flirt kisses  the ego.

Napkins written with numbers passed encounters
promised.
Some never to know the light of day.

Hungover friends  gather whiskey  laced
plessures  with a tinge of regret.
But life is one play  my friends  that no
single act shall we froget.

The drink sit's neat apon the bar.
You can see blindley for years.
And never know who people truley are.

Drinks as people dont last long.
They gleam the same under neon light.
So friends always mix them strong.

In a old house far from the jersy shore.
Ghouls gather for in a vancant house.
For a birthday party and something more.

Pirates and she devils elvira  a mummy or two.
They awoke some old demons.
Playing games over some witches brew.

But some things are better left alone.
Trapped in the barbwire  so obscene.
They choose to raise some hell can someone text save us
on there cellphone.
The head cheerleader is now tonights top scream queen.

Nowhere to run there fighting shadows pleading for light.
It's a hell of a party.
A cake with many lit fingers  the demon wishes
you a happy ****** birthday tonight.

Scream and cry and pray to see tommorow.
Drink the witches brew.
And drown in the endless sorrow.

All victems are welcome no need for a invite.
deep in the woods its the perfect party spot.
For a demonic birthday night.

If drinking were a sport.
I think Id take the gold.
Even without your support.

But if it there were such a whiskey laced dream.
I think  id have to start my own drinking team.

You know in wine.
We could clean house.
With Baths everytime.

For the wild turkey relay yours truley Gary and Jack
would hold it down.
Make the whole team hello including Elliot frown.

Chris can drink his weight in Guinness.
and so easily win us a god medal for sure.
Who need  rehab  were in trainning  no problem to cure.

All the rest of the HP family  will  hang there head in
shame.
Cause when it cause when it comes to beer pong  
weve never lost a single game.

Thank God  for Paula. and Kerry cause sombobodys
gotta stay sober to remember the story.
And we always got Golden  to write about are glory.

And amoungst are group Danny is the youngest in
are humble dive.
Even if he doesnt have a license .
Id rather let him than my drunk *** drive.

In the   showcase  are  medals shall gleam.
Do you think your liver could handle.
Being part ofthe pubs drinking team

At nights when they stumble back to there corners of the world I
sit keeping the neon cast shadows company.
Old dust covred piano  plays to a concert of  empty stools  and
a old ghost or two.

The music fades  like a smoke ring to vanish where none will know.
As a homeless soul stumbles from the shadowsto cross the
empty street.

The glass sits half empty as I continue to play.
As beaten as a broken tail  alley cat.
We all yern for comfort  but in this life.
Often were met with a back hand.

I play as nothing will ever change.
The broken soul   so very tender and strange.

And wait for the for them to return from there corners.
To mask my troubles and fill this dark empty bar.

And the scars you  call  sovaneirs that mark your
arms and haunt your dreams.
The canvas tattred at times.
belongs to a tortured artist it seems.

Beatings breed the monster none will ever know.
Cast into the emptyness as a child.
Cries fell apon deaf ears screams in need of a direction
to go.

No photos or memories past do I
tressure.
the outcast understands the truth.
And does reside with the pain of plessure.

And the wicked will always find.
A subject so innocent.
For the weak are always left behind.

Blood apon the hands secrets eat at the soul
like a cancer.
Insanity has no reason.
Questions are asked for which i have no answer.

From chaos ive risen to bury that ghost.
Taken a form of a clown.
trapped within a prison this shell is but
a tempary host.

underneath the laugther it always does exist.
Passed of in conversations
Im fine I always insist.

It's no worry it's only a part time
lessure.
In the emptyness of my darkend soul.
I know the true pain of plessure.

This is just a simple write  .
Came up with it lastnight.
Right befor I hit the floor.
Fell on my face yet for some odd reason
my backsides  sore.

Drinking with Jack can be  trip.
Joking one minute  next he'll give ya a fat lip.

But im not the kinda fella that does cry.
He's a crazy ******  but I love the guy.

A demented view.
Totally a hatter so am I two.

When Im off he always takes up the slack
Cheers my semi insane brother Jack.