4 PM hits,
Another hollow bottle in my midst.
Finally, the world revolves around me,
And I feel free.
But now I can’t see past the bottom of my glass,
And I feel incomplete.
One misstep and I’ve fallen from grace,
Reality shatters; shards encumber my fate.
A whiplash of glass cuts me open,
Spilling my dreams and my Jim Beam.
Everyone knows it’s to the bars I go
To drown my sorrows.
Tell me if you like what you see,
In our society, there’s no room for inadequacy.
Only Jim understands me.
One more drink,
Yeah, it’s not over ’til I’m stone cold sober.
Don’t care what you think,
Don’t care what you say,
This is my passion play.
I’m doing great, feigning alcoholic lucidity.
Every hour’s a chance to celebrate my affinity.
So come on Jim, and fill me up.
I won’t stop ’til I’ve had enough
And seen the sun come up.
If every hour can’t be happy hour,
I’m only fooling myself.
So pass me another glass and
Take another bottle down
From the top shelf.