Faith Drunk Dry

I still remember that distant day,

A flash of joy before it frayed,

Back then, a smile was easy to find,

Through tinted glass, the world looked kind.

Yo-ho-ho-ho…

There's a bottle of rum.

It felt as though it would remain,

A boundless spring that wouldn't wane,

Life would shield me, soft and true,

And quench my thirst before I knew.

Yo-ho-ho-ho…

There's a bottle of rum.

But I was far too late to save,

Some of that faith for darker days,

To smuggle it across the years,

Before the hardest days drew near.

Yo-ho-ho-ho…

Where's the bottle of rum?

How much I'd need it even now,

A battered flask, but not yet dry,

It would have pulled me to my feet,

And raised once more my colors high.

Yo-ho-ho-ho…

There's no bottle of rum.

No hidden store of faith to hold,

Only the innkeeper, tired and cold,

Who pours me out, for luck, a brew

Of faith long spent, and drunk clean through.

Yo-ho-ho-ho…

There's no bottle of rum.