I dream of tossing back Jim Beam
When neat. No Jack Daniels! It's faux.
I'd bare my soul--wallow in sorrow.
I'd get raving drunk and lunch blow.
Imbibe libations that are strong.
I love a chaser in a bar
I cry and my eyes get too bleary.
I reach for a treacly sidecar.

This is my quest: to wallow in bars,
My muttering hopeless; the gutter's not far.
I fight when I'm tight, and I punch with my paws.
I am swilling; I am parched as hell. . .need ethyl in my craw.

And I know that I'll be really blue till I have snoring rest,
Then depart and drive into law's arms,
Flunk sobriety test.

If I hurl and I give a wet kiss,
Cons excoriate me with scars.
I grovel, fueled with liquid courage.
To breach these unbreachable bars!