Vera's Son - The Beir in My Hand

The bier in my hand, so precious to me
No need for pills to help me sleep
Intoxication, sings so sweet
Awkward walks fumbling talks distracting all of me
Blissful panic always manic avoiding everything
Defective structure in bad weather hiding from within
Breathe stale air up muddy stairs stumbling at a slow pace
My hand tremble harsh every time their barren
A dry is disarray which I’ll never be
In solidarity with a bier in my hand
Never disparage even if I’m to blame
It hurts to think now, I need a bier right away

Written by:
Don Dreste

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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