Drunk...

Well tonight I am drunk, drunk in pain and seems like I won't be sobering any time soon.

If pain was a drug I'd call myself an addict, for every night I get to feel this way,

They look at me and think I'm fine, I'm strong,

Yet, none of them have took a bit of their damn time to ask if I'm OK.

For if I can tell how I'm feeling, I think my tears would comfort me better,

So I beg of you bartender, serve me your finest of music, give it that sparkling taste of back in the days, when everything was easy and real,

To the time when the young would know the path of righteousness, and were not this wreck less and stupid as we are,

the voices in my head keeps getting louder and louder,

Am I really that much irrelevant and useless, well I'll drink to that.

I'm afraid if I write it down it'll become more than reality, it will become me,

But hey the good thing is, it'll be on paper right, and to that I applaud you my dear bartender.

Well then serve me that glass of music, and hit that volume high,

And let me drown these voices in my head, while I write my sorrows away...