We hit the dark rooms
At the dying of the light
And for developments await
The day beginning with
The coming of the night
I take my breakfast at eight p.m.
I list the promises
I've given to myself
The world's at forty degrees
Messages in bottles
Wait upon the bar-room shelf
I count them off
In twos and threes
There's something ironic
In unspoken jest
My nerves take a tonic
And the world takes the rest
 
Alcohol is an ambulance
A fighting ship
Alcohol give the hand
That shakes a steady grip
Alcohol is the scorpion
In a lucky dip
Alcohol, alcohol
 
I wall my thoughts up
With a plaster skim
Like chewing gum
They all congeal
Through glasses, darkly
I observe that's me that's him
Some kind of skeleton
Is hazily revealed
Nothing's the matter
Nothing has changed
I'm mad as a hatter
But feeling no pain
 
Alcohol is the angel's kiss
Upon your lips
Alcohol is the ssorcerer's  
Aprenticeship
Alcohol is the parachute
That never rips
Alcohol is the jacket
That you can't unzip
Alcohol is the searchlight
And a neon strip
Alcohol is the answer
At your fingertips
Alcohol - the casino
Where you cash your chips
Alcohol, alcohol, alcohol
 
Alcohol is an ambulance
A fighting ship
Alcohol give the hand
That shakes a steady grip
Alcohol is the scorpion
In a lucky dip
Alcohol is the jacket
That you can't unzip
Alcohol is the searchlight
And a neon strip
Alcohol is the answer
At your fingertips
Alcohol - the casino
Where you cash your chips
Alcohol, alcohol, alcohol

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