Probably took me a minute or two!

I thought I'd do it again
with an air of familiarity
drinking a warm beer from the bottle
whilst I eye up the fine red wine.
Knowing that what it offered
would take me to daybreak
with an idiot's smile.

The artist would let the seeping knuckles
weep without threat.
Ah! The old sensations
of jealousy and salacious lust
that prance around a head
that will allow nothing to come of them.
Nothing more than a pathetic stumble
with some cheap slut at the end of a camera
just so he can sleep.

Why do I dance with the third person
when it is merely 'good ole' me...
that pathetic stumbling twat
who would be kicked within an inch of his life
by his daytime self.

I am not going to waste my time on boastfulness,
not when my hands tell a story
I can't be bothered telling.
No one needs to know.
I'm not 'the big man' as you put it,
but put me in a corner
and I'm ready to try out that
'hell for leather' shit
they talk about.

Truth is, I have more love
than I could ever imagine.
I live to deal with big problems
so the plateaus I actually face
are no more difficult than sipping this beer
without a cigarette to comfort me.

I found the fight,
ladies and gentlemen,
and with it
I'm riding the glory horse
all the way
to my own idea of heaven.

When I get there I'll sit calmly
with her by my side
as the rest of the world
finally looks like flowers
at last
(of course I remember him)