Lyrics Influenced by the Dead of Night Drunken Mastery

Still Drowning in the Wrong Stuff for the Wrong Reasons

If my wisdom were a scripted book with pages
and a table of contents
I think it'd be found useless even by sages
skilled in understanding written nonsense.

It seems that my common sense
and what I've held as truth,
the ideas that have taken precedence,
and I've thought to be self-evident,
are actually uncouth.

This is my mindset thats come to thrive:
The alcohol numbs the pain of being alive
in a place I'd sometimes rather not survive...
How can one stay well in an environment
that seemingly attacks vulnerabilities.
It's a painfully annoying requirement
to become hardened by one's own humility.

So, in my time, what have I learned?
That I should avoid being certain?
That the only way to heal the burns
caused by my own false notions
(in conjunction with quasi-betrayals)
is by absorbing the pain
and washing it down with liquor?
I wonder what I'll die from first,
my heart breaking or a ruined liver?
If only I could take the latter
and dunk it nicely in Styx, the river.


Two things I'd like to say about this piece...
I wasn't drunk when I wrote it. So if the reader finds it in bad tastes then the only thing to blame is my own writing method or theme or style or whatever it is to be called...
Second thing is... Maaaaan, right when I finished typing this for the first time the web page closed on me when I clicked the 'Preview' button. I almost broke down and sobbed because it had taken me a little over an hour. But I held on and I posted it again. It took a lot of forced memory and brain busting since I only read the finished product once. I'm pretty proud of myself, though.