My prison wasn’t a nine by nine cell with bars in the wall
It was the bottom of a cylindrical bottle of alcohol
Things were so bad and I thought it was the answer
But in fact, I was intentionally devouring the cancer
Mom and Dad weren’t there so I turned to Uncle Bacardi
Puerto Rican rum, I thought it couldn’t scar me
Slowly but surely, all it did was harm me
I didn’t realize this at first and I thought I could drink the pain away
But I’d wake up and the pain would still be there…be there to stay
Bottle after bottle, my addiction grew
My friends slowly went from many to few
I knew what I was doing wasn’t very healthy
I guess I needed someone to reach out and help me
One shot, two shot, 99 bottles of beer on the wall
Knock that all down until I could barely crawl
As things at “home” got worse and worse
I became more and more in love with this curse
Ever so slowly, brick by brick
I built this prison, ten feet thick
Mom and Dad weren’t my problem anymore because
I…
I was…

 
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