The words of men, so full of wine,

sounds then like the sweetest chime.

Those secrets locked away for years,

escape to sympathetic ears.

An arm upon the shoulder rests,

a voice, then two more drinks requests.

As the liquor downward flows,

smaller then, that problem goes.

Oh why then of that nest of fools,

hath destiny made us the tools?

Leaders banished by sweeping hand,

"much better could we rule the land!"

Wisdom in abundance spreads,

between two understanding heads,

"the prattle of those female things,

disgust into ones heart it brings".

A glass sent flying to the floor,

such things, great minds always ignore.

The barman's icy stare was met

by ones with not the least regret.

Much later then, upon the street

the pavement danced beneath their feet.

A lamppost gave the one support,

rest in the gutter the other sought.

Those men in uniform of blue,

in a pick-up van, their bodies threw.

In a cell that night two drunkards slept,

while at home, for them two woman wept.