Drunk

Tomorow is far away
My legs truckled to gravitation
With all women I want to play
And punish darkness on the plantations
Filled with dizziness hurting my head
Complaint´s sweat is peering in the future tray
But the feeling of the previous enjoyment
Is all about the life´s sled
The sense of quality or tasty sauce
Is spreading all over my body
Joy of capturing the night´s gloss
Is hunting my liver into underground caddy
Directions are switching in front of my eyes
I am capable to shoot my way home
Or somewhere else it also would be nice
My head is one lifetime surrounding poem.