Sat on a
lonely hill in a lazy field,
Where you
handcuffed me
With daisy
chains.
I empty
bottles of foriegn beer,
Under
weakening skies
As the last pale blue days
Of summer hum
In a suburb
of a city
I'd never
heard of, till we moved here.
I finish the first
But my thirst still rages
Drinking alone is better, i think
Than not
drinking at all
And I think of you
How you were
right,
I'm just a
Freudian cliché
With no alibi
For my behavioural trends
But long ago I stopped
Questioning myself
Over such petty crimes
As I've no
excuse, anyways
So know my buckled tongue
I never
meant to twist your insides.
Before you
offered me a wing
To hide
beneath
I survived on
bread and booze
So as I get
drunk
On this
lonely hill in a daisy field
I remember how
It could've been
All those years when,
We strived to survive with dignity intact,
Wasted
youth spent experimenting,
And those goodbyes elicited
With low
singing and beer swigging.
Suppose some
lessons are learnt
The slow way,
Suppose
someday I’ll drink wine
But for now
the beer is working fine
As I pretend
my soul is not up for rent
And the past
was just an illusion.
