Stuck in society,stuff the sobriety,let the Pope have his piety and I'll have a beer,but as I peer into the glass,I see things come to pass,like the storming of walls,I see governments fall in the wastelands of Islands where soldier ***** hold hands and climb up the stairways,sideways,
are they drunk?
I have sunk all my wealth into gin and bad health,what is there left for me?but the beer,**** society,
I need to drink to forget,to wet the baby's head before I sleep and wake up half dead,but a half life is some life and some life is better than no life I think,
so I think I shall sink ever deeper in drink until I stop thinking.
Drinking's a curse but it could be much worse,
I could be
a poet.