Fire on Self-Loathing (Apologies to Air on G)

Empty vessel
Fill the glass
In the corner
On your arse

Have a kid
Fill the glass
Glass half empty
Glass half full

Empty fool
More’s the kid
Fill him up
With parts of you

Kid keeps bucking
Fill the glass
It’s your wife
You should be fucking

Days alone
Your phone’s ringing
Boredom tingling

Fucking parents
Can’t use skype
Days spent thinking
E-mails typed

Kid’s a biter
Kid’s a ram
Won’t you have
Another dram?

Whiskey special
Just a snifter
In a hip flask
Like a drifter

Drift the city
Drift the streets
Can’t go home       now
Can’t get sleep

Nocturne’s neon
Cute girls wave
Lovers you
Will never have

When its empty
When you’re done
There’s no household
You could run

Run a mile
Run for life
Escape your strife

Or instead
Just fill the glass
You caused this
‘Cause you’re an arse

Whatever done
Don’t fill him up
What he’ll become    with
Love envelop.

11 December 2014

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