I weep over my tendencies
And this future of mine.
Inevitably a drunken wreck
In five or ten years time.
This is not who I wished
Or ever thought I would become
A woman so dependent
On her whiskey and ***.
The poor children in this film
Are weeping for their father.
And soon his drunken state
Ruins his wife and daughters.
But the soul my heart goes out to
Is in fact the drunken one,
For I knew that he could never win
Once the war had begun.
I myself feel his pain
And i wish there was a way
To rid me of this vile disease
Before it seals my fate.
But could there be a way
To rid the artist from my bones?
To take away the way
My soul weeps and groans?
I fear my fate is sealed
And I cannot stop the storm
From raining over me
'Til I find myself conformed
To the stereotypes of artists
And who we're doomed to be.
So for my future, I tell you,
I moan and wail and weep.
I anguish over my tendencies
I fear this future of mine.
But most of all, I weep for the day
I first discovered wine.