Back on the Wagon Again

Just a little shanty involving how I feel every night as of late.

I still wish for whiskey dreams
For liters of Jack and Jim
A spacebag straining its seams
Solo cups filled to the brim

I want to taste the Yukon
Toast with bottled royalty
I want to share my futon
And forgo all subtlety

I need that liquid courage
Not all Leos are lions
Because we’ve all got baggage
Not just bottles, but sirens

This mast won’t hold me for long
I can feel the bonds fraying
I still hear that sweet, sweet song
Sorry dear, I’m not staying