Shenanigans and the will to kill

What's going on South Florida? Jesse and I might've started the shenanigans late but shit we meant well... we just wanted an honest drunk and a little grab-ass by the bar and while we got 'em both, it just didn't seem like anything was cosmically aligned. Why did the floodlights go on at 3:45 am at SoHo when the flyer clearly stated 2-4-1 till five? Why was Corbett's locked and darkened? Why did we end up at Denny's at five am? It's a good thing we picked up that sixer of Castlers before the SoHo debauch where we bid our friends The Brand farewell. Why is it that going to sleep now's gonna suck like those years of youth I wasted away drinking and whoring myself an insomniac? When are we gonna win? I'm happy Patty called from D.C. to let me know she's alive and I'm happy Annie called afterwards to let me know she misses the world and that I miss her... I vow to never neglect the women who've shaped me. My mother's home and she's fine cuz my mother's the kind of woman who only lets pain in if she lets it. Where's that strength in me? Why is it my assisted shenanigans cripple strength? Why do we slowly drink ourselves to death in the Magic City? Even when the City doesn't wanna make it any easier for us to die? I'm happy Jesse dropped me off on the corner -- quiet walks in my parent's neighborhood at 5:30 am set the record straight. If the newspaper guy has done his rounds you know there's nothing out there in this germ-filled world that can hurt you. God's gonna protect the drunks and the imbiciles and you're only gonna win if you're both. A man only needs a little fuel.