The Sound of Sirens

Hello doorman my old friend, I’ve come to get kicked out again,
Coz a vision said vile I was steaming, get drunk and bounce of the ceiling
And the pint that is planted in my head, still remains
Until the sound of sirens.

In mashed up dreams I stagger home, crawl down streets of coble stone
When the grey man shouts out this warning, “what starts as fun will just get boring”
And the words of the poets are etched into toilet walls “together we fall,
Into the sound, of sirens.

How much I drank I do not know, spewing like Niagara flows
These nights start to take their toll, like the crack in my skull
When my eyes are blurred from vodka cataracts,
Too slow to react,
To the sound, of sirens

I get BLs when I get home, broken heads off garden gnomes,
And my kids start crying, “look at Dad, I think his dieing”
Oh shit it’s the couch again, the same place as all my friends,
Sleep to the sound, of sirens

The next day dawns and I’m still drunk, smelling like I killed a skunk,
Go to the fridge but it’s empty, read a note saying she’s left me
“I’ve had about all I can take, I’ll be gone when you awake”,
To the sound, of sirens

©5/29/2009 Alex Kyriacou