I've drunken myself in happiness and drowned each day of the year, the bottles are empty but the bucket is full and my heart hides in fear. Oh woe the spirits that linger my mind the most, even they have grown weary of I as their host, melancholy and delight, the two regular ghost. My heart served a sentence forever in damnation; it's for its own good, to be rid of such foolish temptation. I drank and drank until once more the bottles were gone and I sat there drunk in my own despair, waiting for more with dignified care Not a day more that those bottles came again, oh the horror I was in! Trapped in the depth of my sweet sin.I cried so many tears, I had not a morsel to provide life to a withered skin cell, I groaned and moaned my very ears to annoy, and then off I went destined to find my lost, precious bottles of joy.