What does rock bottom look like? Let me show you while Jim Morrison serenades us.
Well, I’ve been down so Goddamn long that it looks like up to me Well, I’ve been down so very damn long that it looks like up to me Yeah, why don’t one you people c’mon and set me free
Sloppy drunk in some hole-in-the-wall bar off the side of the highway. Some redneck trucker sits beside me as we both try to outdrink each other way too early in the day. Most of the conversation is inane blather about sports or women or crude jokes that are full of machismo and a show of masculinity that would give two bulls in a standoff a run for their money. I make some errant comment that questions his boasting manhood and things spiral quickly out of control. The next thing I know, I’m out in the parking lot and we’re cursing each other while he rolls up his sleeves above his trucker’s tan. My drunken mouth continues full barrel even while a part of me knows I ain’t got a chance in hell against this behemoth of a guzzler. He swings a haymaker and I feel like I dodge it but the whiskey ensures my reflexes are as thick as mud. Bam! To the ground I crumple and he throws in a few kicks from his pointy-toed cowboy boots just make sure I get the message. A few onlookers snicker and escort the burly trucker back inside while I curl up and bleed.
I said, warden, warden, warden won’t you break your lock and key I said, warden, warden, warden won’t ya break your lock and key Yeah, come along here, mister c’mon and let the poor boy be
Drunk, high, and feeling like being alone is the last thing I need, I decide that it’s a right genius idea to go see Jess and the kids. It’s been weeks and for some reason, I’m 100% sure that she is missing me and ready to welcome me in and have a good time. As I come careening into the driveway, a wave of confusion washes over me as I try to figure out whose blue Dodge is parked at my house – well, I believe it’s still my house regardless of what some ten-dollar-word-spouting judge might say. As my liquor-addled brain grapples with this new information, I come to the obvious conclusion that Jess has herself a new beau. My mood goes from a horny green to a red stick of dynamite in zero to sixty flat. What follows is a blur of screaming, door pounding, window punching, Jess screaming, kids crying, sirens wailing, hurled slurs, scuffling, a police baton, and off I go cuffed and stuffed to spend the night in the slammer.
Baby, baby, baby won’t you get down on your knees Baby, baby, baby won’t you get down on your knees C’mon little darlin’ c’mon and give your love to me, oh yeah
I’m crawling across the bed of some shit-hole, seedy motel towards the hooker whose about to give me the best night I’ve had in weeks. She takes a long drag of her cigarette and goes over the terms of our business deal one more time. I assure her that I’m good for the money. She reiterates the terms so I pull out my wallet, pull out the bills and fling them across the bed. Satisfied, she gets up to get a drink from the bottle that I’ve already knocked a considerable dent in – the second bottle, I should say. She knocks back a swallow and comes to the bed. Heavy handed and a little too aggressive, I try to help her undress. Later, after growing furious with embarrassment and frustration, I scream at her to just take the fuckin’ money and get out even though I was too drunk to get it up.
Well, I’ve been down so Goddamn long that it looks like up to me Well, I’ve been down so very damn long that it looks like up to me Yeah, why don’t one you people c’mon, c’mon, c’mon and set me free