Don’t know… should I drink or not? 
Get high with poems at my throat?
And savor whiskey shot by shot, 
Dull every feeling, blunt each note?

My chest is swollen, tight with ache:  
I dream of blood and smoke and glory!
I wear chains I wish to break,
And strike all lies, and beat them gory.

Again the anguish burns inside!  
Hangover screams in muffled groans… 
Wine pulls my consciousness aside —  
I am your man for casting stones.

The sullen shore renewed, alive,  
The craggy cliff I mocked and sprinted!
The nettles kissed my wild dive,
Burned through my wings and left me squinted.

Oh, am I drunk again? Again?!  
These crimson sails got horns to blare, 
The thistle-weeds rage through my pain:  
Did you believe I wouldn’t dare?

My chin grows bristles, copper twists.  
The grapes of wrath I reap and sow!  
To empty words I clench my fists,
To squirming lies I bend my bow.

Oh, I am drunk! Again? Again?!
The chaos is world’s only order…
God’s prophet readies brimstone rain –
The sulphur is the sweetest odor…

My honest nature finds it vile  
To see the lipstick on pig’s snout…  
Maestro does not play for swine,  
The sty is fine with me without.

I trample falsehood like a snake!
I hang deceit from creaking gallows!
The masks of liars grim and fake  
Shall scream and melt like toothless tallows.