Nightclubbing

The same clothes usually chosen,
My sense of style in a lost time still frozen.
A joint with my good friend the skunk,
With a vodka and redbull to hasten the state of been drunk.

Unsteady on my feet before ive left my house,
With visions of meeting the perfect spouse.
Dreams that always remain unfounded,
My heads always in the clouds, my feet don’t keep me grounded…

Its 8pm and my mates already off his face,
In his shirt and tie looking so outta place.
But its usual for him to be this way,
I smoke too much green, so what the fuck can I say?

So I play cacth-up with determination,
To reduce our drug-fuelled segregation,

The first 20’s gone when we leave the pub,
Braclays dispenses more notes for the club.
Where the bouncer doesn’t take kindly to my jovial banter,
Across the road to a less guarded building at a canter.

Danceflooor pitted with allsorts,
Headbanging Chinese and camp men in tight lycra shorts.
Music punping, bass line thumping,
And foremost on everyone’s mind is humping.

Our group hit the dancefloor lacking yours truly,
Im on the sidelines, drinking, thinking more unruly,

What I see so near,
The image so crystal clear,
A mass market of lust,
With no relationships beginning with love or trust.
Fakeness and narcissism dominating this social hub,
At lest people speak to one another in a normal pub.
Upmost this is a place I just don’t want to be,
Cos everyone is enjoying themselves but me.
A feeling grows inside my soul,
Of escaping to the beach with a joint to roll,
Cos I don’t like living life just with vanity and my dick,
Musical chairs with the mouth, their game makes me a bit sick.
Im not knocking their fun,
I just remember feelings as deep as the ocean with a girl under the sun,
Which didn’t grow from grabbing a womans arse when she’s pissed,
Or out of mornings wondering how many 18 year olds I have kissed.