A week
off workWhat’s
the pointDrink
a beerSmoke
a jointThat’s
nothing newI do it
every dayIt’s all
I haveKeeping my
demons at bay
Therapy?
No
matter
what
the
guidelines
say
Or
how
many
braincells
may be
lost
I’ll
slay
my
dragons
my way
thanks
And
live
with
whatever
the
cost
The Lost (We)ekend
I
don’t
know how
we got here
But
here
we are
nonetheless
We
should
just make
the best of it
Before
we have
to reassess
Booze Blues
I
know
the
time is
coming
Although
I’m not
quite
there
yet
When
all
I’ll
feel is
hungover
And
full
of
fucking
regret
Drinking Irresponsibly
From
the
depths
of the
cold
Into
the
dancing
fires of
hell
I
just
can’t
help
feeling
That
this
won’t
end
well
‘Just Say No’
It’s
5.56am
already
And
what
do I
have
to
show
Nothing
but a
bleeding
nose
And
an
empty
bag
of
blow
Six Pack Blues
One can
Two cans
Three cans
Four
Perhaps
I should eat
Before
I drink
Any more
‘The Boy’s No Good… ‘
I
listen
to all
the words
you say
And my
pain
slowly
ebbs
away
Overindulgence
My
head
hurts
today
Just as
much
as my
heart
I need
coffee
and a
cigarette
Then
I’ll
make
a start
Mother’s Ruin
As
the rot
starts
to set
in
I
pour
myself
another
gin
To
silence
the pain
in my
head
As
the
thoughts
seem to
shift
My
mood
starts
to
lift
And
I can
finally
get out
of bed
Wounded
They
say
you
shouldn’t
write
when
drunk
But
what
else
will
help
deal
with
this
funk?
At
least
beer
allows
me to
release
that
valve
And my
heart,
somewhere
along
the
line,
to
salve
Nonsense
When
the
wine
is in
The
wit
is
out
And
it’s a
good
job
To
be
honest
As
what
else
Would
we talk
about?
(Not So) Happy Hour
Drinking
beer
When
it’s
just
you
Is
not
as
fun
As
drinking
with
two
With A Twist
Is
it
too
early
to start
drinking
She
asked
As
this
is
too
much
to bear
That’s
exactly
what
I was
thinking
He
said
As
he
pulled
up a
chair
99 Bottles
The
only
way
I know
That
the
weekend
is here
Is to
put
on my
favourite
record
And
sink
a crate
of beer
Bottleneck
Fill it
up to
the top
So that
I can
drink
again
I want to
feel the
pleasure
And to
forget
the pain
Bottomless
Desperate
timesCall for
desperate
measuresSo toss
that
jigger
awayAnd
pour
Pre Booked Fun
Are you
sure I
have to
come out
tonight
As I
really
can’t
be
arsed
Apart
from
anything
my face is
a fright
And the
will
to get
dressed
is sparse
Sleep Well?
I dreamt
I was
pulling
little
red
spiders,
from
deep
inside
my nose.Why we
were
drinking
absinthe
before
bed,
who
the
fuck
knows!
‘Drink Me’
I
really
should
just stop
now
I am
totally
out of
control
It seems
I have
well and
truly
fallen
Down the
proverbial
rabbit
hole
One For The Road
I’m
starting
to feel
betterWith
each
round
that
passesAs my
sorrows
are
drownedBy now
empty
shot
glasses
Last Orders
Is that
really
it
There’s
nothing
more?
She asks
while
falling
to the
floor
We’ve
drunk
it all
The
well
is dry
He
exclaims
with a
tear in
his eye
Possibilities
I’m
going out
tonightTo
remind
myself
to liveI’m also
hoping to
forgetWhat I
know
I can’t
forgive
Legless
Play that song
one more time
She
said
And pour me
another drink
I want to
feel something
She
said
And I don’t want
to have to think
Another Please, Barkeep (Part 1)
Drinking again.
Most likely until I’m sick.
You’d have thought,
By now,
That I’d had enough of this.
Taxi Home
Stumbling
home
Drunk
again
When will
I learn
Alcohol
is not
My best
friend
For Whom The Bell Tolls
I’m not ashamed
to admit
I shed a tear or
two last night
As the clock
struck twelve
It was all
a bit shit
Sitting here
all night
And drinking
by myself
Christmas Punch
Eat, drink and be merry.
Or just drink.
I know I am.
Self Inflicted
I’m not
moving
from
my bed
today
At least
until this
hangover
goes
away
Then
I’ll curl
up on my
favourite
armchair
And eat
crisps
all night
without
a care
The Office Party
Bloody hell
My head is sore
I shouldn’t have stayed
For ‘just one more’
Dinnertime
I’ll never
go back
there
againThey
can all
just get
to fuckI’ve no
desire
to talk
to themAs with
my heart
they’ve
ran amuck
Limitless
You can
push meAnd you
can pull meBut don’t
expect meTo break
apartFor I’ve
got tenacityAnd
durabilityDown to
a fine art
A Terse Exchange
I can’t
be arsed
to argueSo let’s
just call
it a dayFor I’ve
got better
things to doAnd you
should
walk away
No Fucks Given
I want
nothing
more
Than
to be
alone
With a
bottle
of booze
Sitting
in my
own home
With the
lights
down low
Listening to
my favorite
songs
Remembering
my
rights
And
justifying
my wrongs
Drinking
I fear I’ve
had one too
many a drink
tonight…
Perhaps now
is not the
time my story
to write…
Drunk
Looking in
the mirror
gives me
a fright,
But I think
I had a
good time
last night.
I don’t
remember
much or how
I got home,
Thank
fuck I’ve
woken up
alone.
Home Early
I
went
out
tonight
I tried
and I
failed
All
dreams
are now
curtailed
For that ship,
it seems,
has sailed
The Shot Glass
Drink,
drink,
and drink
again.
You know
that I’m
your only
friend.
The Pub Quiz
What was I saying?
What was I..?
Ach, don’t mind me,
I’m drunk.
*Hic*.
The Trouble With Juniper
Nobody
knows
the
trouble
I’ve seen
The loves
and the
losses and
everything
in-between
On one
too many
gin bottles
I have
relied
To keep
all of my
secrets
hidden
inside
I’d Only Stand in the Kitchen Anyway…
For the third night in a row there are people having a party, somewhere, along my street.
I can hear them talking and laughing in their garden.
I can smell their cigarette smoke through my open window.
I can hear the rattle of beer bottles as they are thrown into the recycle bin.
Music blares away until the early hours.
I’m so jealous sitting here, miserable and alone, night after night.
I mean, I can be fun too you know.
Well, kind of.
Another Day, Another Hangover
I really
should
get out
of bedAnd do
something
less boring
instead
Seven Pints In…
Drunk
Happy
Drunk
Sad
Fridays
are a
bitch
IPA
Beer…
maintaining the great divide
between dreams and reality…since 1993.
Two Day Hangovers
You can take a tablet to halt a head ache.
You can eat a sandwich to settle a queasy stomach.
You can sleep a while to revive your weary bones.
But the self loathing?
That shit lingers on inside your head for days. And there’s nothing you can do to help that.
God, hangovers are awful.
Booze (Pt 2)
It’s killing me. This guilt. Every time I go out. I speak to someone and I feel guilty for laughing. I talk about you and I feel guilty for crying. I feel like every one is watching me, secretly whispering, and I feel guilty for being such an arrogant prick. I think everyone is judging me, pitying me and I feel guilty for not having more faith in people.
So I’m just going to stop going out. As it will finish me off eventually. This guilt.
Booze (Pt 1)
I hope I find the answers I’m looking for at the bottom of this pint glass.
Otherwise putting make up on to leave the house tonight was a waste of time…