F.U.B.R'ed

Stumble into the wall

Crash into a window

Where am I?

How many did I have?

One, six, twelve?

With a can in my hand I make my way down the hall

Said I would quit, said I had enough

Down it and crush it

You all sit and witness

Not one word is spoken

I say this is the last one

Sixteen? Twenty?

You grab it out of my hand, say I’ve had plenty

Too late, I’m gone

Too late, I’m shit faced

F.U.B.R’ed and numb