I will admit, right at the start
I have had one-too-many tonight–
Of course, you will say, "Not too smart."
and scoff me without being too polite.
But would you hear my story?
Do you care to see the pillory
that I carry around my mind?
Listen, and be a little kind?
I am not too sure you would.
I am not sure if you ever you could.
But I shall tell you nevertheless,
not that I have anything to confess.
I drink because it sets me free,
and lets me unconditionally be,
what I was and ever wanted to be,
The man that was happy and free.
Don't get me wrong, I am not unhappy or sad,
I am am not in a state that I would remotely call bad,
I am happy and free today,
but that is not to say,
that happiness hasn't got its shades,
and that in comparison to one, the other never fades.
Perhaps I was moulded in a different mould,
by the lord in a moment bitterly cold,
and as I grow old and old,
I have a sense that it was all foretold,
and I knew that the dream, to me, was sold,
by the lord who knew what to withhold.
I drink because it lets me forget,
the cacophony of the distant happy trumpet,
and lets me step out of the prison of my mind
and gives a bit of light to the eyes that have been blind.
Very well then.
I have had enough to drink
and I don't care if if this poem does sink
I will sleep a sound sleep
and for once won't, in my sleep, weep.
And that is why I drink and don't think and drink until I sink.
