Daddy's Late? Poem by Dan Reynolds

I know a man who has two drinks
then talks like he's had ten.
It isn't long before he thinks
'I'll have two more, again.'

And so the day goes two by two
a chaser and a beer.
He talks to folks, he seems to know,
whose names just disappear.

The drink is like a dagger
nestling snuggly in his back
I've never seen him stagger
but his tongue gets awful slack.

I've never seen him carried out
nor fall down on his knees,
but I have seen, without a doubt
the worst of his disease.

For I have seen the soiled stains
when fumbling with his flies
and I have heard my mother's pains
unravelling his lies.

But worse by far than all he does
is what he never says.
The scar of disappointment was
carved in his daughter's face.