Sinking lower and lower,
In a sea of doubts,
Downing my sorrows in scotch,
And whiskey and vodka,
The ice melting drop by drop,
In my drink of poison,
Why do I harm myself like this?
Yet wine is truly the taste of oblivion,
And how sweet, ah!how sweet oblivion is,
Demophys must have had a number with life I guess,
Then I scoff at the stupidity of my own thoughts,
That turns into a frown when I stare at the shadow of an unkempt man,
Staring back at me through the glass,
Bewildered I stick out my hand,
And The glass shatters into infinite pieces,
I look at my hand covered in blood with strange satisfaction,
Why do I harm myself like this? I wonder,
Then I down another taste of oblivion.