Jeffrey Pipes Guice

New Orleans
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My Bucket of Sorrow

Here I sit...
In my bucket of sorrow...
Wondering if I’ll even survive...
Until the sunrise tomorrow...

The bottles of gin...
Which I consume each day...
Have destroyed my will...
What more is there to say...

My life is a mess...
And I don’t care what you think...
Poor me, poor me...
Pour me another drink...

My life is so worthless...
Oh, woe is me...
As I sit in my squalor...
Soaking in my own pee...

The bottles of wine...
All empty or broke...
Are scattered about...
I’m a drunkin’ old bloke...

My life is a mess...
And I don’t care what you think...
Poor me, poor me...
Pour me another drink...

I can’t help myself...
Nor shall I try...
Just step over me...
Spit right in my eye...

I know I smell bad...
But I have nothing to fear...
I’ll be dead before I know it...
As I fall asleep in my beer...

My life is a mess...
And I don’t care what you think...
Poor me, poor me...
Pour me another drink...

I’m a pitiful louse...
A pathetic drool...
A hapless parasite...
A wretched fool...

Don’t pity me...
Slap me in my face...
Just leave me here...
I’m a total disgrace...

My life is a mess...
And I don’t care what you think...
Poor me, poor me...
Pour me another drink...

© 2021 Jeffrey Pipes Guice
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