The drunk at the bar has yet another drink
Staring at a mirror at himself and those mistakes
His face moves in contortions like he’s trying to think
He doesn’t know how to take the breaks.
The lady sat down facing me I tried to change the mood
The train moved on we diverted eyes or should I ask her out
The questions that the mind will ask sometimes maybe intrude
Into what is right and maybe wrong and what it’s all about.
Bringing in the bacon on a mounted lie
I can do what you can doesn’t get to why
Brining in the bacon is what life is about
All of a sudden you’re in with a shout.
I’m sometimes thinking life has no reason…
Other than brining in the bacon.
And back to this wee drunk who is escaping from being him
He misses all the check boxes as do all that ain’t involved
We make up made-up stories how he lost but did he win
But he’s the kind of Sherlock where the mysteries are solved.