Today I don't want to think.
So I'm going to drink.
I'm fed up of life.
I'm going to drink.
I'm going to drink, drink drink
Until I'm comatose
And hopefully then
To death I'll be close.
Yes, I shall drink
And I don't care what people think
This epitomises the worst attitude
I can have; I'm on the brink
Of dying by the drink.
And I don't give a ****
If I have the worst attitude....
I DON'T WANT TO THINK!
OK!?
IS THAT SO BAD?
Dear, alcohol, CAN'T I AT LEAST HAVE THAT!?
Who the **** rhymes drink with think?
This is so debilitating; I need a drink.
I've lost it. I've lost the plot, if I ever had one.
Almost certainly lost the plot of this poem
But who cares? I can't.
I want to hide, see no-one and die.
I need to hide, see no-one and die.
So I'm just going to drink.