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Just another endless drink of whisky Sinking like another sunset Then the sharpness of the pain begins to fade; Like a friendly favourite anaesthetic Numbing heartache and the sadness Of another stupid mess that I have made. I can sit here in the dusky shadows Of a half-deserted barroom Where nobody gives a damn about my name; I can alter my susceptible perceptions With the alcohol deceivers Yet tomorrow when I wake is still the same. Just another boring tale at bedtime Told to no one there at all, When the pity in the words begin to ache; I could tell it on the misty mountain, I could yell it to the crying moon Or pretend this failing heart will never break; I would never have believed it, I have fallen hard once again When I swore that I had learned my lessons well; There’s no more reason to examine For in an idealistic soul The fatal seed of certain downfall always dwell.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2005

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