Down The Drain

Before anyone asks, I don't know why I wrote another depressing and somewhat angry drinking ballad. I'm actually in a super fantastic mood today. I toned it down a bit from my original idea, but hopefully it will still get the point across. :)

Down The Drain

© 2012 Chelsey Sears

Holdin’ an unopened bottle

In a brown paper sack

He shuffles through the door

Swears it will be the last

Even though he knows inside

The promise he just made

It’s going down the drain

His head starts to spin

As the night presses on

Each second lasts for hours

But he’s too far gone

To even care about the time

‘Cause since she drove away

It’s just been going down the drain

Yeah the kitchen smells of whiskey

But he hasn’t had a drop

‘Cause if she was still there

She’d be beggin’ him to stop

So he stands at the sink

Drowning his pain

Watching everything go down the drain

In ev’ry ounce he finds a mem’ry

Laced with regret

Knowing that the bottle

Was the reason that she left

There’s a part of him

That just wants one more taste

But the other part pours it down the drain

The kitchen smells of whiskey

But he hasn’t had a drop

‘Cause if she was still there

She’d be beggin’ him to stop

So he stands at the sink

Drowning his pain

Maybe she’ll come home someday

But ‘til then he’ll just pour it down the drain