meet me in the Bar

Self Medicate

Most of the old boys days are fine but some are like this.

Pull up the collar
Pull down the hat
Trudge through the streets
Till you forget where your at

Order a vodka
Order a beer
Remember the memories
Just forget in which year

Sit in the corner
Away from the door
Dont Look at the people
Just look at the floor

Feeling the feeling
That filled you that day
Stared at the corpses
Could not look away

The twisted contorted agonies of death
The mouth frozen open expelling last breath
The hand like a claw grasping at sky
The earth a red carpet on which they both lie

The pulp and the matter
In which was their life
Is spread out around them
This man and his wife

For Christ sake barman
Just pour till it stops
Leave the bottle on the table
And dont call the cops

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