The beer scooter

My brothers and i we now get on well,
but we are not alike and we used to fight like hell.
We are all grown and have gone our seperate ways,
But once a year we go on a rave.
its just like old times this one time we meet,
we go to the pubs and get blown of our feet.
We drink ourselves silly and buy something to eat,
then stagger to the taxi and say, head for our street.
The following morning i awake, my mouth is so dry,
I drink a milk shake.
And then i wonder how did i get back,
my mind is a blank everythings black.
It must have been what we usually use,
the beer scooter and were are my shoes.
Slowly but surely it all becomes clear,
never again will i drink so much beer.

Not till the next time at least.