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.