If i were to write drunk poetry, You would call me foolish, But my words dont lie, they flow, Like a river, which knows no end and a few rocks which hit you, like they hit me but they mean no harm, so let them be i walk through a sea of fire but it doesnt burn me whats the use i wont scream So it passes by, and i stand still burning with out burning in my fiery dreams
Never answer questions about yourself when drunk, you'll find out things you don't want to know.