The bottle doesn't tempt me,
Nor the demons within.
I don't want to drown my sorrows,
I don't want to sin.

I know my life is bad,
But I don't want to make it worse.
The liquid in that bottle,
Would put me in a hearse.

I walk the shop's long isles,
I stare at everything.
But that's one place I'll never go:
The isle of the demon's drink.

Of course a little alcohol,
Never did anything wrong.
But if you drink too much,
It'll be the last note of your song.

I don't know how I'd react to it,
And I don't really want to find out.
It can make you stumble around,
When you whisper, you actually shout.

I once saw an older man drunk,
On the way home from the pub.
I'd been in a tree,
Swaying to the music from the club.

He almost got hit by a car,
Don't worry, he survived.
But I don't want to be like that,
In the end, I want to say I've thrived.

So far, so good, I have done.
But that, we know, might change.
I can promise it won't be the alcohol,
That sends me out of range.