Go easy on the words

boring party

Alcoholics, the lot of them.

Blokes and birds.. full of it

hors d’oeuvres.

That’s what I call them,

the meaningless words dispersed,

without substance at soirees.


The most boring ones stock the most alcohol,

prophesising the boredom in store, which

can only be headed off by a glass full.

There’s a few fooled alright,

into thinking they’re having a grand old time

Their liquor tempered babblings flowing forth like a burst keg.

Someone told me this was the good life,

About that time,

I walked away from them,

and their Grandmothers hip replacement,

a fascinating tale I’m certain.


Don’t make a fool of yourself.

Don’t drink too much.

Sober advice I’m sure,

but nobody says what they ought to say,

have a few shots, talk about 100ml

‘Go easy on the words’

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