Drugged by popularity
And the attention that so follows.
Liquor brings you clarity
And also numbs your sorrows.
The sweet burn trickles down your throat
Like the burn of twigs and flame.
For if the sailor drowns the boat,
Are the waves to blame?
Should the captain steer away
From brewing storms and pain
Or should the sailor face the day
And accept that there'll be rain?
He can hide and run and quiver,
In fear of foreseen damage
Or he can bring death to his liver,
And let the truth so vanish.
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