Woody's Blog


Ahhhh a little glass of Vimto
A less honed state of mind
It's what you're probably into
Some solace you will find

When it finally hits you 
The feeling of ambience (am bee aunce)
The miseries don't inflict you
With their nasty dance

Instead you're warm and mellow
Semi distant in the clouds
and your fear deserts you
Confidence abounds

The fact it isn't solace
It's alcohol induced
just goes to sharply tell you
There isn't an excuse

So solace for the soul
Isn't vimto in a glass
Neither is it excuse
Because you haven't class

Its from the mind a Sun Ray
Shining in your dark
To brighten and illuminate
That ray of hope or spark.

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