The Watering Hole

Oh look at the time, just look at the day!

Our mind is full, but our hearts are empty.

This ache inside, make it go away

These torturous feelings we have plenty.

We look around, we see those faces,

We smile, we kiss, ‘How are you?’ we say.

Who are these people? We know them in traces.

Most we probably wouldn’t recognize in the day.

Watch your step, embrace the stampede.

Where’s my fucking drink?

‘Yo bro! Wanna smoke some weed?’

Whatever works, just don’t think.

Glasses clink, and smoke rises,

As we all laugh and cheer.

Hiding behind our painted disguises.

Yet, constantly drowning in a fear.

The fear of being truly alone,

In this vast and wretched sphere.

Drifting forever; destination unknown.

Who are they? Who are we? Still unclear.

Soon it all fades to black,

Or grey or white or something.

Who’s gonna deal with all this yack?

Fuck it, it’s just a rum thing.

Get off of me! I don’t know you!

Where exactly is my soul?

This empty crowd, if only I knew,

Why exactly do we come to this watering hole?