In my own little corner, in my own little chair,

I stare at a bottle that will take me away.

It is where I live, it is where I am happy,

It is what helps me not to care for anybody.

It never makes fun, it helps me be numb,

When I need it, it comes, and never runs.

It will never hurt me, or ask me why,

I can count on it always, to be by my side.

In my own little corner, in my own dark room,

I stare at a bottle, my spirit imprisoned in a tomb.

I ask it no questions, it tells me no lies,

and there are never any good-byes.

In my own little corner, In my own private hell,

It waits with arms open, my secrets it won't tell.

I never feel lonely, I never have fear,

As long as my bottle stays always right here.

It takes me to places of fantasies and lies,

It helps me to believe I can always hide.

In my own little corner, in my own little chair,

Not wanting to think, not wanting to care.

I stare at this bottle that I call friend,

knowing it will help me with the pain once again.

It has become something I can count on,

It can take away the tears, it helps me to foget the past of my life,

and all my inner fears.

I hope someday to call another my friend, but for now I'll stay in my own little corner, my own little chair, where nothing can hurt me as long as my

bottle is near.