DRINKING ALONE

Drinking alone ’cause nobody’s home. Unless you count me, but I don’t count me.
If misery loves company then company should run to me, but as you see, there’s only me.
I got plenty of time because it’s all mine. Hour by hour and minute by minute.
Don’t need will power ‘cause I know my limit and I’m over mine. That’s not a pickup line.
Real men do not cry and even if they did they’d never tell you why.
Yes, nearly all my life—the same holding pattern. Ask my former wife. But you better take a knife.

She turned my heart into stone, then I polished it up. Now my comfort zone is to bitch and moan. I’ll face the unknown with a face of stone to match my heart. I’m state-of-the-art.
Yes, I’m holding my own in more ways than one. In a world of my own, in a league of my own. Through no fault of my own I’ve got a mind of my own, but I must confess: it’s an ugly mess.
Chitchat a pussycat, but why-do-all-of-that if she’s a democrat?
Cozy up and beat my gums. You think you got a cookie, but it’s all just crumbs. She’s as dumb as they come.

The only time that I drink is when I’m alone. Or with somebody but these days nobody wants to be with me once they see that I’m better left alone, so I drink alone.
The average dog is a better human than the average human. All this moonin’ and spoonin’ it’s time-consumin’. Got things to do. I do ‘em best alone. That’s why I drink alone.
Good men are hard to find. It don’t matter what they mutter as they say goodbye.
Real men don’t wonder why. The strong and silent type—that’s a good disguise, the best that man’s devised. Now don’t act surprised when he gets fossilized.

Yes, he’s been analyzed and he’s been sanitized. He’s been socialized. And he’s been pasteurized. He’s been itemized and winterized. He’s been stigmatized and satirized.
And, yes, he’s paralyzed.

A Song Can Tell A Story

When words leave off, music begins.

DRINKING ALONE