Narrow Minds with Narrow Times.

Let the gin slip through your lips
Let it fall, fall, fall coarsely downward.
Bend your fingers into crooked snow
Bend your personality, let it slip, slip,
Slip through your fingers. Nobody
Cares who you are anymore so let
Go; set yourself apart, let go, let go.
They'll support your cause, at least
For tonight let the gin burn your lips
For tonight let us live, at least for
Six more hours, be benign for
Six more hours – we'll be alive for
Five hours and fifty-nine more minutes.