Nicotine Stains My Fingers, The Way The Liquor Kills My Liver. Poem by Don Skuravy

When I was a younger man
I was the walk the talk, a cock without a hen

Sittin’ on this worn out stool thinkin’ bout my first sin
Feelin’ time has past me by like I’m worn out to the end

The days are gone when I could frolic
Go dancing in the wind
Feeling time has past me by
Past me by again

How did I get this far?
What happened to my win?
Sittin on this bar stool
Order one more double gin

I have done things in my life
That was better left to him
How did I get this far?
What happened to my win?


I've cheated, gambled, fought and lost
Time and time again
How did I get this far?
What happened to my win?

I think I’ll have just one more
Another double fricking gin

My momma tried to warn me
That I'd end up just like him
My daddy must be crying now
Like his daddy did for him

Loosing life to nothing
Can make a mans head spin
How did I get this far?
What happened to my win?

I never got to prove my salt
Somehow I always knew
I'd wind up just like him
What happened to my win

I wonder how many sat before
On this same old worn out stool
Wondering bout the same old things
Feeling like such fools

My daddy must be hurtin’
Watching me from his grave
Another double fricken gin

I wake up everyday hoping for the way
It kills me thinking I've gone so far, wondering a stray

Looks like this old bar stool
Is most likely where I'll stay

The journey life has taken me
Has pushed me to the floor
Drinking to my troubles
Has me feeling pain no more

Missing all the things
That should have given hope
I know now to forget them
Just order one with coke

Jack Daniels aint the cause
But so easy to place the blame
When the bartender looks with pause
I just want to play the game