What kind of drunk are you?
Well, let's see
There are the fighters
And the flirters
The motor mouths, the water works
The dancers, the snoozers
The hyenas, the hooligans
And of course, shoutout to my
Fellow jumpers!
Like Jehosaphat and Geronimo
Pogo-stick party pumpers
We who seek heights
Once ***** spikes our blood and
Adrenaline rushes and
We wind up in plaster because
We reach for the fan blades
Or climb cars to cannonball from
Or, how about you just
Help me touch the ceiling
Before the chorus of this song
It'll do for now
Sure, I'll crave constellations later
But that rafter looks promising
At least, until the next round
Anyhow,
Anybody relate to what I'm
Babbling about?