It was Friday night,
Or maybe Saturday morning.
Who knows when you had as much to drink as me.
It was another bed,
another nightmare.
Another guy to forget about me.
I must be crazy.
It had been cold out,
or at least there was snow.
His name I can’t remember.
I miss the smell of his whiskey though.
It had been my birthday,
or an anniversary of someone's death.
I had been looking for fun.
Found more then just that.
New drugs to intake through cut off straws,
another tight pussied girl to talk out of her clothes.
More fun for this teenage crankster.
Left out to freeze in the snow.
It was 2 a.m.,
or maybe 8 p.m.
The moon was there for sure.
Ice crunching beneath my feet,
knocking on an old friends door.
Crashing on another sofa.
Mind blacked out.
I must be crazy.
What am I talking about?