The damn lonely night and the bottle.

“Maybe our last friend is the whiskey? Maybe Ernest Hemingway last thoughts? I should of drank more and fought less wars. Maybe I should love, for real. Fucking night is the loneliness time.

The damn lonely night and the bottle..

The secret truth, my friend. You can’t win.

We fight and we fight till we win. Or we lose. No-one can win and everyone will lose.

Tonight Johnnie is drinking alone, he is dancing alone.

And the saddest part, no-one is missing Johnnie.

I have tasted love sweetness, I have tasted love bitterness.

Now I accept little.

I was careless in love,

I was careless in life.

I loved the sea, I loved the whiskey and I love the woman,

who could make me smile.

I am sixty-four years old and I asked myself.

Did I do on damn thing right?

Today I am drinking the eight year Black Velvet,

and I am singing to the night.

Lovely gal, who I loved me on a blue moon.

Am I forgotten?

Once I loved war, once I love new faces.

And tonight, the midnight moon told me.

You reap what you sinned and

you are what you sewed.

Sinners sin, lovers love.

And we become what we suppose to be.

I am drinking the eight year Black Velvet and

I told the night.

I beyond here. Sin is sin, love is love and

we deserve what we deserve.

Maybe I am where I suppose to be?

Coyote