Markets sell me booze, although my birthday
is not in mid-2009.
Too young, too young.
Stores’ vapid drones choose…look the other way.
I find the markets that will give
booze scores. Booze pours.

Until they wake up, I’ll be hittin’ ’em each week,
and then be drinkin’ my fill.
Next day I’ll seek
more stores, where I’ll use
ID that is fake.
I’ll make a brand-new market hit…
new store, new store!
I’m sure I’ll make it there, using my fakish fare.
And then I’ll do booze scores, booze pours.

Booze scores. Booze pours!
Until they wake up, I’ll be hittin’ ’em each week
and find: There’s another one, add to my list,
drinks I will swill. More chugging fun!!

I’ll little-towns-choose;
there, no hell to pay.
That’s because rubes staff their markets
and sell booze pours.
I mostly make it there…
guess I should have been more aware
of boys in blue.
I’m due in court.