Rounds

One more feeble excuse for a drink
My shoulders are starting to sink
The thought had crossed my mind
Hell yes, this cash is disposable income
It's time for one last round

If you need another
I'll meet you halfway
What do you say?
You're spitting blood
I'm spitting feathers
We will get by with all the silly things you suggest

Oh God, like shit we'll be sleeping tonight
Just scrolling through all our old pictures
Our friends we never see
What next? We've already beaten the sunrise
The morning seeps right through

We soldier onwards
Make a few friends on the way
He's so drunk, brokenhearted
We follow him home, continue to ruin our bodies

He said, "I think I know you,
I recognize your humor"
I never seen him before
And surely won't again