Oh, what a pickle I am in

after drinking that bottle of Gin,

the ghosts of my past

have come back to haunt me

as I sit here with shaky hands and

a fuzzy head trying to write

some wonderful mystical prose.

But in the shadows the ghosts of my past

are laughing and sniggering at me,

can't go to bed

the dead will come into my dreams

and in the shadows

my demons are laughing at me,

Oh, what a pickle I am in

got to have another Gin.