The State of Mind of An Alcoholic At 1:59AM

Wasn't this some kind of a frame

a game?

I think it was something you said

that made my knees wobble back and forth

and ask for another clean cut shot glass with salt

You rubbed the small of my back up against those guitar strings

and nothing ever felt this good

I must confess you were more than the Magellan I imagined you'd be

with your cheek pressed up against mine

and all this gloss rubbed off on you nice and shiny

I parked myself next to the phone booth

because it was small enough for us

and big enough for the ideas I had to get the better of us

You made me want to be the center of attention

with this sloppy Charleston of mine

and with these notions of you finding me magical

And so I lifted my spirits

and I lifted my spirit

and I lifted my leg up in the air

and put my arms around you

and I waited for dawn