Ntozake Nelson
Oh no, another day begins Calenders and wristwatches are counting down my sins Construction trucks outside are piling up the years After 25 the brides leave the single girls in tears God bless them, god bless them all 'Cause we've heard about what happens when their engine stalls The tallest ones are mauled in the falls of the Midwest The quiet ones are farmed out to businessmen's requests And osteoperosis gets the rest They'll remember her best as charming and good-looking Though they wouldn't take her now for all the beer in Brooklyn Her cooking is her pride but she sits alone for dinner In the dark under faded posters of Lew Alcindor The local red-eyed bottles have settled in for the winter But you won't see me there I can't raise my glass and the others never cared I'll drink my morning coffee without Irish and I will make amends I miss the bottle I miss my friends, I miss the bottle I miss my friends Hip-hop saved my life that summer, you wouldn't understand 'Cause when I felt those beats cascade over the grandstand I felt like a man and you know a man gets thirsty But the clerk at the A+P wouldn't sell to me I felt the crowbar in my hand I got the liquor and the cops got me While I was in the can my buddies were commanded To clean up someone else's mess in Afghanistan They never came home Now I put each posthumous 'Pac release on their tombstones Their families hold my survival against me And I hold their religion against them And I hold my jacket against myself Like an army blanket on a plane of wounded personel And it doesn't seem right To go without cocktails on a bereavement fare flight The stewardess smiles and tries to cheer me up as the plane descends I miss the bottle I miss my friends, I miss the bottle I miss my friends Oh no, another evening ends All the tired fertile women are leaving with their men Just cops and cabs remain when the city's lost its citizens I could drive you home 'cause that's the way I'm going And no one likes driving the bridge alone Even when it's retrofitted you can hear the builders moan My regrets pile up like cars behind traffic cones I'm not sure what I drove here for But I can dream of walking you to your door And I can leave my evening jacket crumpled on the floor And I'll forget you ever loved him and I'll forget that you still do And I can leave this life alone or I can spend what's left with you And I can call the cemetary to buy us adjacent spots We can adopt a Vietnamese kid to leave flowers at our lots And darling you can pick the name I can tell I'm talking insane I don't mean to offend I may never fall in love but I'm getting to the age at which I'm willing to pretend I miss the bottle I miss my friends, I miss the bottle I miss my friends I miss the bottle I miss my friends, I miss the bottle I miss my friends |