SVANTE’S DRINKING SONG
Night is so
cold.
Life is so
short.
Friends
move out further
off than
they ought.
My tongue’s
all mouldy, my soul’s lost its pep.
And each
time I move it’s a backward step
You must
just keep your spirits primed.
I am drunk
and I’m feeling fine.
Cobbles for
bread.
Traffic
like shears.
Zips and
not buttons.
Music that
sears.
Stars that
are sooty and grins that don’t fit
and porter
and belches and aquavit.
You must
just keep your spirits primed.
I am drunk
and I’m feeling fine.
Tiredness
and tears.
Shouts like
coarse rope.
Hands quite
rejected.
Hope
without hope.
Toothache.
Insomnia. Gastric distress.
But life’s
worth a hangover still, I guess.
You must
just keep your spirits primed.
I am drunk and I’m feeling fine.
I am drunk and I’m feeling fine.
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