Barstool Warrior

In a dark and lonely corner of a time-worn dockside inn sits the local barstool warrior, talking to his gin. Tracing past decisions he motions for a shot. Is he doomed to be a man this world forgot? Just a prisoner of the monster on his back. Call it bad luck, call it fate, call it stuck here the rest of my days. Serves me right, what went wrong, and where do I belong? In the glow of flashing lights on the shoulder of the road, clutching at the bruises on her skin. She tries to signal danger with anguish in her eyes. Will he see the world of pain she's in, or is it too late? Was it bad luck, was it fate, or a past that she couldn't escape? It's not right, something's wrong, just where do I belong? Promises made, crying in vain, all empty, never accepting the blame, and not letting go of the shame. A river of tears as months turn to years, all wasted on someone not willing to change. Now only a shadow remains! No one can save you, and there's no one to save. It has been written you will become all you think, all you feel, all you dream Now I'm cutting the anchor away and I won't look back, I'm starting a new life today. Now I see where I belong!