A Trenchant Critique

You said that you’d finally heard the voices in my head
Or at least I think you did
I’m so easily confused
An inebriated fool who doesn’t know his right from left
Or often right from wrong
Once said, and I quote
«I just read this thing that you wrote in college
A trenchant critique of anthropology
Being accepted as a social science
And not the art of educated observation»
And all the things that we can learn about ourselves
In the context of someone else
Another vaguely remembers swimming naked with strangers
One summer night on that ill-fated tour
Well, those were formative years
And maybe that’s why I like to drink my beers warm
And I like to take my pants off
And I like a little ink on my girl
And I always thought I’d end up owning my own
Boat before a home