Women sit on the laps of drunken men
Each man has claimed his *****
Only one man sits alone
Nursing a bottle of Jack
His eyes downcast and shadowed
Are filled with fire and doubt
A fire that burns sharp and bitter
Much like the liquor in his mouth
Woodsmoke covers the sweet smells
Of *** and Black and Milds
As all fly higher, they care less and less
The energy becomes primal and wild
Slowly they separate in groups of two
Each pair to find a tent of their own
The clearing empties, the fire dies down
And only one man is left alone
Aug 19, 2012
Aug 19, 2012 at 11:05 AM UTC
Women sit on the laps of drunken men
Each man has claimed his *****
Only one man sits alone
Nursing a bottle of Jack
His eyes downcast and shadowed
Are filled with fire and doubt
A fire that burns sharp and bitter
Much like the liquor in his mouth
Woodsmoke covers the sweet smells
Of *** and Black and Milds
As all fly higher, they care less and less
The energy becomes primal and wild
Slowly they separate in groups of two
Each pair to find a tent of their own
The clearing empties, the fire dies down
And only one man is left alone
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