I been down so long

seems like the sun is shining,
when it’s way past midnight,
and I’m in the drunk tank, again.
It seems normal to be here.
Can’t say the jailers have become
like friends. For them the insanity
never ends. Here comes the judge.
What should I say? I’ve already
promised The Lord that if he lets
me out I won’t have a drink from
this day forward. Oh no I’m out
and my thoughts are of that little
girl who works at the bar downtown.