Six Shots of Southern Comfort

Bonne nuit, numbers and digits Did you miss hearing the drunk specter sing? Back to waffle again about their trauma and joy Derek isn't even their real name Where were you when the millennium turned? I can't imagine it was peaceful for everyone After all, someone had to be 30 at that point Or was it easier when the world was less connected? What a fascinating frontier to breach To traverse new lands with friends from afar From the comfort of your own couch Six shots deep and another shot at the slots So ignore the phantom I thought was a rumor Even at my lowest, the sun glowed a pleasant gold High in the sky, humid as a swamp town tends to be I hated the heat then and I hate it now The realization of ideation is a wash, huh? Or has the brilliant future promised simply not arrived yet? My screen can produce beautiful images that do nothing Is this the end, or will another decade grant us infinity? Can you even call it whiskey when it tastes like candy? It burns to the uninitiated all the same But maybe I've drank enough swill To say I've earned something sweeter Six shots of Southern Comfort deep and reminiscing about gold The dead man walking repairs their broken aspects Children think themselves invincible, of course Damn the boy for making me have to work to return to zero It must have been frustrating, looking back As 9/11 repeats itself abroad, how few options did the layman have When this was a fresh disaster with fewer options for relief I learned my times tables equally as lonely Was humanity ready for the Internet? I imagine most people are fine The fact the some have mastered the Preacher's Techniques with it Shouldn't be a condemnation of humanity as a whole Six shots of Southern Comfort deep and I've lost my way This was supposed to be a tale of Y2k-era nostalgia You make such a fascinating conversationalist, viewer It's so easy to lose my way when I sing to you But there's so many tales I want to tell you How could 2500 characters ever hold them all? So instead, I offer you my glass Drink alongside me, and I'll sing you a song Were the aughts for naught? Were the teens a dream? Do the twenties have a fun fitting rhyme? Are you like me; pining for the nineties? I can only imagine how my niece sees the world What a strange place it must seem Did my aunts see me the same way? Was I seen at all? I shed my birth gender years ago To become the aunt witnessing the world Six shots of Southern Comfort deep And I'd like to say "hello."