My Unfortunate Plight

It was a cold, cold morning,
The sun rose like a stranger,
From the shadows of the deepest dark night,
To bring back the memories,
Of how I find myself here,
A recollection of my unfortunate plight.

Last night in a bar room,
I was drinking whisky straight,
Thinking of the love that once was mine,
Trying to drown my sorrows,
And contemplate my fate,
Sinking back three fingers at a time.

The jukebox was playing,
A melancholy air,
So depressing that I wanted to cry,
When in the bar room,
Came she, without a care,
In the arms of a debonair looking guy.

Reflected in the mirror,
I drew him a sneer,
And muttered some words under my breath,
Don't ask me to quote them,
That would be unfair,
For the words I don't quite recollect.

But they must have been nasty,
They must have been bad,
For he rose up and asked me to explain,
I shrugged him off my shoulder,
I shrugged him off my back,
And told him 'politely' to go away.

Well he was offended,
And challenged me to fight,
In my drunken state, how could I refuse?
I stood up from the bar stool,
And drew out my knife,
And stuck him in the gut, where he stood.

He fell to the floor,
In a pool of crimson blood,
Her face lost it's smile and filled with fear,
I sat back on the bar stool,
And drank another shot,
I sat there waiting for the cops to appear.

Now I stand before the judge,
To enter my plea,
I stand guilty of what I've been accused,
The murder of another,
In the first degree,
My unfortunate plight, the hangman's noose.

Oh Lord please forgive me,
For I took another's life,
Please save my remorseful soul from Hell,
Warn the young folks of the whisky,
In conjunction with the knife,
Through this broken hearted loser's tale I tell.