Soma circa 2005

Night after night
it's the same scene,
it's all the same to me,
thin gin or cheap wine.

steal sly glances at
the ghost in the white slip
standing next to the
whisky stained dress
that she stripped off
and threw in the corner.
I'd love to have her,
but I'd settle for
second best.

Turn up the stereo
and make our toast
to oblivion, slip
on the hardwood floor,
get up and talk to Emily
about nothing much
at all.

Yet again a drunk night
equals another fist fight,
words get said, we sit back
and watch our ritual
dance of the dead.

Sarah says something
funny, tensions die down,
someone goes to the store,
David passes out,
and I pour one more.

It's getting lighter out-
side, morning is coming
and this party's dying.
Drive home in Kati's
car, singing off-key as we
death defy down the road
erratically.

In this life like a desert
all the tumble weeds
just want another drink.

Night after night
it's the same scene,
It's all the same
to me.