I'll just get the oars And push myself right off How could I hold myself liable Under such madness, do pray tell Faces of bottles read through the night Swaying in context, warning light Yet another patron is dedicated To this last jam It's only 40 seconds till the show begins Watch the screaming squabble of drunken state Son, another grayscale of apathy in such a place Not much time for reaction if one is wake For fear of contracting such vile taste This has been the last time He'll leave here almost deadly undone Pre-empt of fear 10 seconds now till the curtain is raised Cold sweat seeps from his liquored brow No one to throw the ring One foot of water now In panic stricken reigned he forgets how to swim I'll scratch another from the cleansing post It's almost a rush to reach for the blade It goes from shame to shambles in less than days Natural selection with a shove I'll take it from here