He saw colours like a rainbow,
And the grass moved up and down.

Now He Knows That He Can Win

He was walking through the flowers,
He was feeling mighty fine,
For his day was bright and sunny,
With his stomach full of wine.

And he smelled the pretty flowers,
Then he had another glass,
And he tried to pick a flower,
But he fell upon the grass.

And the waves of nausea hit him,
As he crawled upon the ground,
For the problem he neglected,
Was a mountain, not a mound.

And he knew he was addicted,
And he knew he had to stop,
And he knew he'd hit rock bottom,
When he should be at the top.

But that glass of wine was calling,
It was sitting by the fence,
But he paid it no attention,
Though the struggle was intense.

And the struggle did continue,
Through the evening and the night,
But he couldn't let it beat him,
He could not give up the fight.

When the morning came to find him,
He was kneeling in a church,
He had come for he was frightened,
He had come so he could search.

He had come to find salvation,
He had come to find release,
He had come to find the answer,
He had come to find some peace.

Now he's sober and he's happy,
Though he knows where he has been,
But he has a strong conviction,
And he knows that he can win.

by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul