A night, just one night,
Before my big flight.
Should I hammer the wine?
I think I just might.
The atmospheres cheery,
But here is my theory!
It starts with one glass
Then I’m drinking all night.
The room which I eat in
Is plush and upmarket.
The walls filled with prints
And a black and white carpet.
My round tables filled
With the rem’nants of food.
With a bottle of red!
This Spanish wines good 🙂
As I listen intently
To others digressions,
I wince as I hear
A few Cold War confessions.
The old veterans talk
With the quiet of mice
It’s like back in the NAAFI
It’s really quite nice.
But modern life sucks
At the teat of today.
And in ten years or so
There’ll be no one to say
“Yes I fought through the eighties”
“I scared myself witless”
On a positive note…
I won’t get bored shitless!
The staff run around
Making everyone feel
That there’s nothing too much
For their charming appeal.
The chefs ring their bells
And the guys and girls scamper,
Not a problem too much
For this service to hamper.
But to finish I must
Coz my eyesight is fading.
This wine is a fucker
And my mind it’s invading.
So to give up this pen
And wonder to bed
Is the only way forward
…I’m taking the red.