Beer, Whisky and Her
Beer, Whisky and Her
I have finally opened my eyes to
Shooting Headache and
The sun that should've risen yesterday... I guess!
Stumbling on the beer bottles
Made them roll from one end to another
Until they stop
As they hit the wall,
Resembling to my stance since
That evening
When my lips kissed her
And bacardy for the very first time
Both tasted almost the same.
And there was no stopping
Just how bottles kept rolling accross the floor
My life spiralled around different dimensions
Involving her and the bottle of whisky
Then, less of her and more of whisky
And this continued
Until she depreciated to an extent
As disdainfully as pluto
And whisky bacame my sun.
Today, I open another bottle
And pour the drink
But this time, on the sink
Until it's emptied.
Before it drains away
I see the whirlpool of
The drink and
Wish if the bottle could fill up again.
I guess that's the beauty of all hopeless drugs
Beer, whisky and her...