Drinking and Lusting

Drinking and Lusting

My two most often saviors are materialistic it’s true,
One is of flesh, and the other a deadly brew.
When I feel beaten or low, to them I run,
Sensual pleasures until happiness comes, please excuse the pun.

And when my energy is spent,
And the day is wan,
Joy to me is lent,
From the fermentation in the can.

You may cry or weep for me the dirty drunk,
You may call me names and even kick me when I’m down,
But let me these lies debunk,
For only I have a reason to frown.

You accuse me of being lazy,
Yet I have worked as hard as anyone here,
You spend your money on killing the planet, oh oups-a-daisy,
I may have offended you I fear.

You call me a filthy sinner,
And sinner may be true,
But did you say a grace at dinner,
Or have you given God his due.

You blame me for your troubles,
And yet I blame you not,
For through all my trips and tumbles,
I have learned to be meek, and yet you have not.

I drink and lust and try to only feel good,
You crush to top of the business latter, and it’s understood,
That only I am the one who is doing wrong,
Looking at a pretty thing, taking off her thong.

Now why is it may I ask,
That you feel guilty through these distinctions that you meet?
And so to you I have a task,
Go and kiss a bums sorry feet.