Domestic Whisky Salvation

I have a bottle of whisky I keep in my house It is well hidden, like a tiny little mouse I drink it in all kinds of situations I drink it down to calm down my chaotic emotions My house is my life and I share both with my wife She is nice but she doesn’t always possess a sex drive I would rather go to bed a drunk, than a frustrated man I drink my whisky while she snores, and i have lots of fan Am not a perfect man, my wife nor perfect spouse either We argue quite a lot, but when am on the whisky she seems nicer She can say hurtful things that can cause my sober psyche much panic But the whisky drowns my fears, like the sinking of the titanic The whisky gets me through difficult domestic quarrels A drink or two, and you forget your sorrows and tomorrows Life is here and now, whether or not you own titles and plots Happiness is a moment like this, inspired by whisky shots The whisky for me, is like a silent life partner When bolts are loose in my head, it is my golden spanner The whisky represents me just like an advocate Defending me against boredom, so that with fate i can relate Life outside the house seems to dash unfairly fast Time gets lost while you are wearing an employee’s mask But between my house and my whisky, my mind stands still I don’t know about heaven, but this is how it must feel