my personal drinking song

im a damned fool, as much as a fool can be

you pulled the wool over my eyes, and now i cant see

straight beyond the morrow, or over this glass

and alone i will travel through this lightless pass

so call me a doctor

so call me a shrink

and let them right down

whatever they think

but for you, unnlucky daughters

let me tell you how to sink

your problems in whisky

and leave your hopes in the sink

i was once a a cheerful lad

with dreams in my heart

but now i am bitter

because they fell apart

and if you asked me

how did it all start

id sigh and say whisky..... cant cure matters of the heart

so call me a doctor

so call me a shrink

and let them right down

whatever they think

but for you, unnlucky daughters

let me tell you how to sink

your problems in whisky

and leave your hopes in the sink

now i was never gentle

but i used to be a man

and i had plans to travel this land

but i leant my poor soul

for someone in tow

and they cut the line and let is go down the hole

so call me a doctor

so call me a shrink

and let them right down

whatever they think

but for you, unnlucky daughters

let me tell you how to sink

your problems in whisky

and leave your hopes in the sink

now i am alone

and thats what i am

theres no changing the course

when you havent got a plan

so holler me a whisper

and permit me a kiss

and dismiss this old drunkard............

So he can go pisss

so call me a doctor

so call me a shrink

and let them right down

whatever they think

but for you, unnlucky daughters

let me tell you how to sink

your problems in whisky

and leave your hopes in the sink

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OAv5aaA8glQ

CORRE ES LA MIGRA!

From atop the mountain i could see the foliage in revolt. Fanning forth in multi colored flames, chlorophylic war scorching my optic nerves with raw unadulterated life. It was the decadence that signaled the coming of winter, before the numbness would sweep down from the north, robbing the inhabitants of their breath, leaving them frozen and still. Winter was pawing at the door and i could feel her icy touch in my already burnt lungs. The cold rock beneath me spoke, it creaked and groaned spinning inconceivably fast so that the strands of time could be held in observance. I was reborn this day, atop the mountain, in the end of the fall, before the coming of frost. I was reborn because i saw my duties clear before me. I understood the purpose of the trials. The scales were meant to tilt forever, judging, weighing, and they had found me wanting but pliable to their needs. With this knowledge i set my fears aside, indulging that which has always lived beneath my skin. If i am wrong, then let the sword justice that hangs over all mens heads fall, and let it be true to its mark.

Its not that i believe you incapable. Though you show some aptitude it is your luck that has carried you forward. You have been lucky in that you have lived without being ground under the heel of harsh reality. But it is this very fact that is a weakness. For when your luck runs dry i will continue on, not because of some mundane superiority, but because i have cultivated my resilience. I have had everything i believed in ground into dust, i have lost faith in those i loved, i have even been beyond the gates of death, and still i have risen again out of sheer tenacity. Its the only thing that people like us can do. We pick up the pieces and conceive a new mosaic placing the shards into some new kaleidoscopic wonder. There is no rhyme or reason to it, our will to survive gets stronger the more we get beat down. Cant you hear it roaring? It is the sound of our souls, like waves breaking against the rocky coast. Slowly but surely eroding it away in our implacable assault.

the hands are rough

the skin parched with thirst

and calloused with effort.

They say you can tell

a lot about somebody

by looking at their hands.

Tiny cuts and abrasions

give them character,

as well as denote

the activity of their owner.

One only need examine

the hands of another

and you can tell what type of man he is.

Is he someone who works hard,

late into the night,

ignoring injury to perfect his craft.

Or are the hands soft and unblemished,

the hands of someone who has never

seen an honest days work in their life.

Who has never known the torments

of hunger, and loneliness.

So i ask you to grasp the hands of those you love,

and be judge.

birthday kiss from a dead girlfriend

if you could have seen her

dressed in white

shinning in light

as though with the gods

if you could have felt her

as i did

you would have sworn it was real

you would have sworn

she was still alive

she sat on my bed

and

she said

lets sing a crippled song

together

i opened my eyes

and she was gone

my ears are still ringing

still hear singing

calling me past the veil

of worlds

and when i come to rest

i feel upon my breath

a phantasm of kiss

whispered upon this rotten flesh

just between you and me... getting drunk by yourself in the middle of nowhere on your birthday sucks.....