by Stefan Blixt

Liqour boy was full of assumptions
He supposed his coat would change his life
Handing over his last three buck gin
Throwing down his last fist of coins
Into the cash machine

Liqour boy was liqour boy no more
He put on his coat and headed for the shore
Sucking down one last five buck rye
Liqour boy became the drunken guy

Waking up the next morning in pieces
Lying over a chair where he'd been thrown out
To drip-dry

Drunken guy had a head full of plans
He got up and headed for the land
Finishing that day's first moonshine
Drunken guy lost track of the time

Waking up in the middle of the night in panic
Didn't know why, where or how he was standing

Sober wreck threw away his coat
Got his job back at the liqour store
Chuckling grimly at the drunken men
Catching them as they fell and putting them
Out to drip-dry

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