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.”

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