Morphine whiskey
Washed down with ginger ale
Leaves me fatigued and dehydrated
And a whiter shade of pale.
Drowning all my sorrows
By pickling my brain
A pure act of genius
Or just mentally insane.
A self inflicted curfew
I must be home by dawn
As I burn the midnight oil
Losing my queen to a simple pawn.
This game of chess called life
Has passed me by too fast
But has ended with a final look
Through the bottom of a glass.