No body I know has the "Fuck"

Two bottles, one in each pocket
Its a little excessive, but so is this party

Three sets of eyes, independently fixated
on me, or who I appear to be
who they want to be, who id rather be

Four hours, one bottle gone
Ive talked to each pair of eyes, they listened
they fallow me, too each other pair
and have a goal for the night, fixation is their fix

Five rooms, and the whiskeys all gone
whispers in ears, sending chills threw the kitchen
tungs dance around, a show to be seen in the den
half dressed sex, doors being knocked on in the bathroom
what to do, with the other two rooms

Six beers, that arnt mine but i drank
becoming the theme, for this night at-least
the crowd swells, my blood is flushed
standing still, it feels like i am dancing
the eyes come in and out, hoping for more
drunk and defeated in victory, I swoon away

One disappeared romantic, from the party of realist