One final glass of whiskey neat, I lie to myself as I repeat, so lonely in this crowded place, where souls come to surrender. Where the fight is done, the pretence of peace has become a house of splendor. Just a moment’s peace in chaotic surrounding, for the morning after, my head starts pounding, so just one more please, so I may release what weights heavy on my heart.

For my days are spent in concentration, on tasks for which I have no patience, how I wish I could do just what I loved, instead I’m here beneath your thumb, my body and soul don’t move as one, I dread the person I’ve become, so one more glass until I’m done, just one more glass to leave me numb.

By now you can tell that I’m lying, to empty the bottle is what I’m trying, so fill my cup and hold the ice, you’ve filled it once, now fill it twice, pour one for every morbid soul that frequents your house with sordid goals, to numb their pain is all they’re trying, such a lively house filled with the dying.