The years pile up behind me in empty whisky bottles
All recalled in happiness and in the day after despair
The green of history eventually takes them from view
We remember what we can , we drink what we have
Abstinence or closure. Abstinence and closure.
No crystal balls. No food scraps. No Tins.

The earthly remains in the green , tangy vapors rise
Cocktail of former times, trace of post coital drams
A tincture of the last wake , hightide mark of a toast
There is the wet from the baby’s head of course
Inebriation or beginnings . Inebriation and beginnings
No crystal balls. No food scraps. No tins.