Intoxicated with the Madness/Beer/Jager/Wine/Whatever else

Madness
I meet new people
and I swear I won't drink
because that only leads to chaos
As I discover when I'm still mainly sober
Then I meet the green shirt
And I know I'll will myself to die in the morning
As I do throughout the night
Over and over
I want to die
I want to die
I want to die
And then I dance some more
And I laugh more naturally
And I receive compliments I don't accept
Like the "You have a wonderful smile"
Or, "He said he wanted to meet a pretty brunette"
And then the man meets you with jealously
When he created the demon himself
And you dance your heart away
All the while willing
What wouldst thou Sibyl?
I would die.
And the Sibyl of Cumae rocks in her cage
back and forth,
back and forth,
in a delirium that can only be attributed to drunkeness,
which she attempts to pen down but can never achieve,
and her stomach aches
as she knows she will wish to die in the morning
and under the wilting chesnut tree,
she sold you and she sold me,
and the poor soul walks in front of her at 3:31 in the morning,
and eight minutes later she is still babbling,
confused in her skull,
wishing that nothing occured,
making no sense whatsoever,
not that she ever does, you laugh,
and so she rambles on.
But she sings to the one beside her,
and reveals her deepest wishes,
the ones that she isn't good enough to achieve,
and all of them have something in common,
they're the opposite of technical,
(perhaps not, i suppose)
and her shirt smells like him
and she gave the jersey back
and on the plane to Perth,
he wonders in what sense he meant it,
at almost four she attempts to ponder her future,
and remembers how they sang together,
but what is most prevalent is the fact that in the morning she will wish to die again.
And he remembers nothing.