Pour me a glass or six, dear bartender
You seem to forget that we've been through this through and through
Quench my thirst for forgetfulness and happiness in its most vulgar base shape
I am happy in this state and you, them cannot get to me
Omar he wrote about it; an elevated man of science and clairvoyance
But Omar... Omar did you really know heaven from hell
Are we to be laid under dirt, eaten by worms
vanish into nothingness.
Omar, I tell you '' the me within thee blind...blind''
Dear bartender, you foul smelling greasy haired guy
I will not wait for them. Give me my nepenthe
I love this, Medea. A fascinating drinking song! ! Please try and read my 'Old jazz club'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very captivating poem this