Start

It starts with a squabble

Turns into a fight

Bystanders cheers

No one can see the light

First there where whispers

Followed by pointed fingers

Some boys were up for it

Others preferred to linger

Oh Saturday saturday night

It’s 10 0 clock anger height

Somebody stared someone stared back

No words were spoken

Here comes the fists

No bones were broken

We are all too pissed

All the punches missed

Doesn’t it make you think

How stupid we are

After a shitload of drink

That took you too far

Fists are flying high

Men are punching the sky

The women scream and cry

It makes you think that too much booze

Tramps on logic makes the stupid choose

And on Sunday morning it’s a bad dream

Until you see your life tearing at the seam

Oh the guilty oh the pity

Makes your heart burn

On my I ask why

When will we ever learn

©JMN2024