The drink swirls around inside my head.
Back and forth, the dizzy alcohol crashes my skull.
Tomorrow always comes.
And Yesterday always goes.
I can only hold Today in my hand.
Everything else in between slips through my fingers.
Slur my words for me, baby.
Because, I don't want a world that doesn't make sense.
But this Earth spins out of my control.
Grip the trembling railing, because this is Tipsy Turvy.
And I'm Alice in Wonderland, thinking,
"How the Hell do I get out of here?"
Nothing makes sense to this drowned heart.
I'm living at the bottom of a bottle.
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