The Man from Shushan
TTTO: Man From Vilna Journeys 4
I met a man last purim, who was on his way back home,
From the purim seudah, and was travelling alone,
He said he was from Shushan, a liar I could tell,
And I helped him with his bottle, he could not hold it very well
I handed him a bucket, and he filled it very fast,
He was talking incoherently, I could tell that he was trashed,
Then he shared with me a story that has changed my view of booze
From evening until morning, filling up the room with wine,
Though we had no sechel , to help us keep our heads,
In their place we had the cans, and the bottles and the kegs
I remember Simchas Torah, wine and beer were intertwined
What to drink and where to dance, and how to leave my brain behind
And then the scene before my eyes shook us to the core,
Someone foolishly had spilled out, a bottle on the floor
We ran as one towards the mess, our minds no time to think,
We bent down and lapped it up, in defiance we would drink,
And as I sat there crying, I vowed right there and then
Not to let a drop of alcohol, go to waste again
From evening until morning, filling up the room with wine,
Though we had no marijuana, to puff and get us high,
Instead we had the whiskey, and the bourbon and the rye
It took many drinks to get there, Absolut and J&B
Then I saw four children crying, and suddenly I knew
This morning when I woke up, I was hit by a brick wall
I had drunk so many ounces, close to four hundred in all,
But slowly there was healing, blank thoughts now mixed with light
From evening until morning, filling up the room with wine,
Though we had no Sifrei Torah to clutch close in our arms,
In their place we held those bottles, the Purim Seudah would go on