Glass bottle refilled with desperate paper---
What an ironic companion you are!
I've kissed your lips a thousand times when far
Adventures made me a moral pauper
But whiskey was the words that poured inside
Both my deceptive mouth and truthful mind:
Guzzled shots fermented my letter signed
Beneath a boy's bed when his mother died.
Private? Nothing's private in this world, son.
Besides, you're a kid. Have a little fun
Before older hands write your young years dry...
Shoot it! Shoot it, Michael! Shoot the damn gun!
I ain't no ocean Huckleberry Finn
Begging night for shelter! Shatter the sky!