Whiskey Days

Some days I feel like a robot    
mechanically going through the day    
hup two, three, four    
eat, sleep, fuck and repeat    
     
The mundane like a piece of plastic wrap    
suffocating my mind and soul    
making me insane    
     
I want to break through    
howl at the moon    
run naked through the streets    
     
Not care anymore about my culture and class    
whether I make the cut financially    
or if i'm good looking enough    
     
I've entered the land of intrigue    
just to be bitten in the ass    
affairs fleeting with men with no class    
     
Then there are the whiskey days    
so mellow and beautiful    
when every thing is full of majic    
     
My soul feels at ease    
the only thing lacking    
is good conversation    
becasuse good whisky    
always puts me in the mood for philosophical discussions    
     
I wish I was in England where I could just walk to my local pub    
where I knew the people and every now and then    
a new person of interest would wander in    
     
Sigh instead I live in the country    
where you have to drive to your nearest bar    
then your headed for a DUI and losing your privelege to drive    
     
So here I tap at my computer    
having whisky thoughts and philosophical    
discussions with myself    
feeling so good I wish every day was a whisky day.