An allegorical consumption bends my mind, leaves plenty of time to come up with a rhyme. Am I getting glimpses from the pink cloud? I rinse my hands to you. Obliged to run and hide, there no point in elevating a free ride. One hour at a time, it’s your call Dave, I only wish I could save. Instead wrongly we behave, Some poisonous liquid makes you tough and brave. Distinguished guests, a disgusting mess. All you have ever know is now stripped from you. It’s happened to me too. My head hurts, can’t even consume in small bursts. This is an all or nothing type of scenario, but what shall we do at tonight’s barbeque. Water is my best friend, my insides are on the mend. How did it come to this obvious state of affairs? This is stuff of nightmares, dancing into existence, keep up that persistence. Use your power of resistance and level this out by breaking your addiction. This is not fiction, just an ongoing pursuit to claim what is rightfully yours. Treat it like a chore. This is such a bore. Leave it in the store, don’t buy more. Your doing the best thing imaginable, tricky.. yeah, that’s inevitable. Misguided youth, this language is so uncouth. Lift me, heal me, this is a slow suicide that takes pride in destroying my decision making capabilities, screws with my insecurities. Help me, help myself to help myself. One thing at a time, your hopefully doing fine. Together we’ll make this climb. The studies are in… this folder is no longer thin. It takes everything from you and leaves you with no point of view and reference to elude, best off putting this out there incase someone is about to cave,, your better than this, you’re brave and no longer rave. On every occasion it is expectable, At least to the unpredictability the night it holds. The routine was a drag and becoming sad. Every morning, ten o’clock arrives and you can bet I’m there to celebrate the opening, roaming, with no objective, it’s all so subjective. Save that dollar and hold in that holler. The devil is laughing, you’re too busy barfing. Understand Dave, this was an awful lifestyle and habit, no more chasing rabbits. This makes for a good song but the philosophy is all wrong. I was going to end up in hospital, behind bars or six feet under. Nobody around to hear the thunder. We were such good friends until we weren't. My blunder. Hungover with one way to solve it, by drinking the poison that got you there in the first place. Why such a race? I’d drink and leave no trace. Sobriety can be ace if you don’t put that bottle to your face. I didn’t struggle with cravings, I know a lot do and I feel sorry for you. The doctor told me just one more drink and I could die. This made quitting so easy, i cannot lie. I call it divine intervention. A false sense of elevation and lack of attention. I should have been sanctioned to save myself. I unknowingly fell down that hole and it took somewhat of a scare to help me repair. I did out of despair. At first this didn’t seem fair. I’m to young to die, In the fetal position I cried. I made it through, me out of a chosen few. My resolve came true, zero point zero I blew. Make of this as you will. I personally find it good therapy. I am now happy. I know this sounds sappy.