3,2,1 why be sober?

2 litres bottle just a drop

Drop by drop, desert, ruin, wreckage

But I don‘t drink a lot, so I don‘t have a problem

And I am not going total insane

Cut.

Record how his hands are shaking

while he is speaking negatates his problem

hands of an oldman without strenghts and secure

and face of man who has no cure

All is white. Hospital. Sheets. And tears.

At the reception a doctor a friend from past years

connected together via passion for blue depths

no depths of the glass, real depths of the sea

and nostalgia while he is looking a man ruined

My on detosication. You know. That why I share this with you

So it‘s not cheers anymore

just how to draw out of this with lesser scars when he is revive

what kind of cognition he will gain

In what conditon after all that is a liver?

And what about nerve endings?

Delirium tremens. Explains everything.

Lack of real words in my sour mouth

But I remember how he could wisely talk

and entertain us kids without glass of wine

But it seems that he can‘t orinetate himself

with out bottle of beer And it‘s not funny now

when my pals and I drink together

becuase in every glass I see his mirrored face and someones else defeat

in promiles in precentages and discovering that I from shadow

looking at them not wanting to guess at table

who will be that one who will be ruined by

king alchocol so famous, yet so misearable