The Bottle
Looking down,
into despair,
the bottle said,
I'll take you there.
Just one sip,
is all it takes,
to lose your grip,
and cause heartache.
Drink your fill,
and lose your mind,
I'll make you numb,
and strike you blind.
That's the spirit,
enjoy the taste,
let everything,
just go to waste.
Don't you bother,
with a glass,
you don't need one,
out on your arse.
Perhaps ask God,
if he keeps a slate,
screwed upon,
the Pearly Gates.
Now that's better,
you're getting there,
abandon thought,
abandon care.
I'll turn the truth,
straight into lies,
and twist sweet love,
into despise.
Aren't you glad,
of a friend like me,
to take your mind,
to misery.
I'm all gone now,
you took your pick,
don't blame me,
if you choke on sick.
You had your choice,
and you chose me,
you can call me friend,
or enemy.
Copyright © Mark Jones | Year Posted 2006
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