five o'clock lush and the hair in my brush

5:30pm and I
must be getting weaker
unless they’ve made it harder
for alcoholics to be
better at what they do

forced the bottle opened
the cork slips out
like old friends
that I don’t give the time
to sit and catch a breath

now I’ve got a pair of scissors
that threaten every strand
and the redder I get
there’s more of a chance
that they carry out their plan

do it all completely
the wine and locks left out
cause every cut has meaning
and I wont let my head
weigh this heart down