On the Wagon

Two months on the wagon
 -It’s going very well
 I’ve started sleeping better and
 I’ve lost that boozy smell

 I get so much more DONE now
 And I’m looking pretty great…
 I tell myself, “Not bad at all
 For just turned forty eight!”

 It’s a shame that underneath the skin
 I am such a mess
 Worried and emotional
 Yet full of emptiness

 ’Cos the Bottle was my dearest friend
 My excuse and my reward
 Without it’s precious gifts
 What is it all for?

 What will make it bearable?
 If I can’t have a few?
 What is there now for me
 To look forward to?

 Make a healthy dinner!
 Go out for a swim!
 All very nice I’m sure,
 But hardly the same ring…

 ..as, “Let’s go down the Pub!”
 “We can have a skinful!”
 Lovely and familiar and
 Wonderfully sinful…

 How can it be COOL to be
 Sensible and sober?
 Why does my life feel like it
 Might as well be over?

 All my heroes have been Drunks
 In films and books and songs
 Wasted and misunderstood
 Barely hanging on

 Too complicated for this world 
 Too deep for normal folks
 Irresistibly arrogant
 Behind their clouds of smoke

 What if I can’t do it?
 What if it’s too hard?
 What if I’m really boring
 When I haven’t had a jar?

 Well, Here I jump into the void
 I don’t know what I’ll find
 I suppose that’s why they say
 “One Day at a Time.”