send* corrections to the typist Oh
God what, the Oh?
fuck how, many drinks did I Oh..
my God where’s, my wallet Oh?
God I, think I’m gonna fucking Oh…
God Now
how am I gonna get from this bar stool to, across the room without puking Either?
barf-drool on this broad’s shoes Talking
stupid drippin’, fall, into a liquid ball of spew age I
know I’ll do this again eventually Which
tempted me and tempted me to get fucked up I
don’t know but, it ain’t the centipede rich drinkin’ spending spree Shared
with three kids at the crib skip the rent at least a week Speaking
in tongues to all both of you In
hopes to get a drink I think I’ll crawl over To
a sober sympathetic ear to spit this lim-pathetic jeer Oh
my God ’cause, I don’t hear so well Is
it a trouble seeing double even when your eyes are shut You
can time travel through black outs and wake up inside some club ??? Six
pence of beer my, dear friends are near You
all look like demons from here In
this mer hall of mirrors cheers, (cheers) (cheers)