A Numbers Game

You had one too many

There’s no two ways about it

You were three sheets to the wind

Two wrongs don’t make a right

But it was your third strike

Guess you weren’t firing on all four cylinders

Your mind was like a three ring circus

And your mouth was filled with four letter words

If only you had thought to take five

You were on all fours

When you went for a five finger discount

On something as stupid as a six pack

You should have pleaded the fifth

But I guess it’s six of one, half dozen of another

Because now you’re on the run 24/7

Your whole life is at sixes and sevens

And you’re behind the eight ball

No chance for a normal nine-to-five

You tried to find refuge in section eight,

Like you had nine lives to spare

But they wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole

Nine times out of ten

You wait until the eleventh hour

Thinking redemption is a dime a dozen

But now you’re back to square one