“yes, i know i drink too much,” he said, “but it’s under control.
i’ve never picked a fight with a stranger; i’ve had no accidents on the road.
it doesn’t interfere with my work; it eases the strain.
i make more money than i ever did; no one has ever complained.
until now and i wonder just what your motivation is
until now i never thought of you as one who’d meddle in my business.”
he is not my boyfriend; he’s not related to me.
i have known him for a long, long time; i’m worried by what i see.
there’s a nervous edginess that only drinking smooths.
when i question him about this, he says, “what are you trying to prove?
until now, i have thought of you as the non-judgemental type.
now i see you’ve been reading too many magazines, believing all that
he’s the life of the party; he’s everybody’s pal.
he used to act like he liked me until now.
now we’re waiting for the axe to fall, the phone call that shatters the night.
or maybe he will surprise us all, wake up one day and see the light.
so i’m standing in the shadows with open eyes and closed mouth,
knowing every day that p*sses, he’s farther away from drying out.
until now i was able to look the other way.
until now i could pretend that what i thought didn’t matter anyway