Three Beers Left

I woke up drunk
on the kitchen floor
couldn't remember last night
nor the previous four.

There was no-one to ask
How I'd got in this mess
I had only one fact
There were three beers left.

Sitting in the fish tank,
those three lonesome bottles,
the fish were all dead,
and i was all blotto.

there was puke in the sink,
there was shit on the walls,
but those three virgin brews,
were all that i saw.

it wasn't my house,
it wasn't my floor,
and the beers that remained,
were fewer than four.

The labels said "50"
But there were still only three
How long would we last?
These three beers and me.

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