One... Two... Three...
A burnt beard, cigarette in hand.... Snooze....
Four... Five... Six....
Things get hazy, a little confuse....
seven... eight...nine.....
The sense of fear, anxiety is lifted.....
This drink, this elixir, I've been gifted.....
Ten...eleven... Twelve.....
Nothing makes sense any longer....
Nothing could be wronger....
Stuttering... falling... can't remember....
The distance isn't here....
Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen
It doesn't matter any more.
Your brain isn't like it was before.
Doesn't matter, Can't feel. Don't even know if I ever was real.
Keep throwin back the magic elixir,
Not knowing it, no more liqour...

fifteen.. fourteen... thirteen...
darkness is starting to seep in
feeling the consciousness at the back, its sin.

Twelve... Eleven... Ten....
Looking around, noticing the little things
the uneasiness it brings...

Nine... eight... seven....
Things are clearer...
Sobriety creeping nearer.

Six.... Five... Four...
Palms sweaty; Heart racing; Eyes wide; frantic searching; Body purging; Blood pressure dropping; head swarming...

Three... two....One...
You're gone......