The Drunken men’s society

They raised the slogan and the toast too

to liberate the soul of the one in captivity

of work and meaningless growth of the both

the oppressed and the oppressors, Let’s git rid

of the basic seed of humanity to earn the bread

and cheer the slow suicide of the soul to mate

the death on its chamber for the insolent sleep

Let’s get rid of the passion of living the hostile life

and not to lick the wounds inflicted upon earning

a two squares meal a day. Let’s drink the Vodka

and finish the class struggle of the men under alms

for seeking a place in heaven and beyond!

Let’s unite with the threadbare of alcohol as our messiah

and wine the rose on the wagon of the just married couple

preparing to up bring the children raised as stock.

The sum of the stock written on the cabinets of the bar

the whiskey follows suit the ice on the fire that tingles throat

Till the day is sped into forgetfulness and the muse of a

vagrant woman takes hold in the spirit of the romance

Till we are done with the finest love tunes on the radio

and the last cup of wine brings the day to open its eyelids

and the night to wade into the sea of silence.




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