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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."

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