Work clothes still damp, I claim my throne,
dreamed all day of this amber zone.
Scholar of sweat with cash in hand,
logic fled like shifting sand.
False pride steers this nightly ride,
watch the hometown hero’s slide.
Forget her smile, her gentle grace;
I’ll take the bottle, claim this space.
Darkness falls as I hold court,
nursing drinks while cutting short
the bedtime stories, tucked‑in prayers,
trading love for liquid affairs.
They deserve their daddy home,
but ego says I’ve earned this foam.
Picked the barstool, played the fool,
learned too late the golden rule.
Silence settles, crowd grows thin,
the happy‑hour hero’s sin.
Last light fading, last call near,
another night dissolving here.
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