My mind is adrift
Waves of 3 am Lap at the shore of an isthmus called psyche
There between the seas of reality and dreams
Three shots deep and diving,
I drown my better judgement in a pool of fireball
Music blares, but the words melt as I listen
White noise in a black night,
One more drink,
One more drink
The fire in my throat is burning
Like the fire that purifies the gold
The old verses ring in my head,
And the pastor spits a sermon over dr dre’s beats,
A prayer in the dark murmurs through drunken lips,
And then at last track ends, the priest descends from the pulpit
In the deafening silence, I leave my drink on the desk, still not empty
I stumble my way to my oblivion
And pull the covers up to my neck.
Now I lay me down to sleep
And languid waves wash me out to sea without a shore
The nightly giliad of a lonely druckard
Sipping steel in an empty room,
And talking to the voices in my head
Lost on a road with no lines
Lost hold of the iron rod and see no signs
To guide me on my way
And so I float away on a magic carpet
Seeks the genie in that bottle with only one wish
The only one it can grant me.