Billy's Got His Beer Goggles On (Glosa)

It's Friday night, his paychecks cashed
He's dressed country, boots and hat
His trucks been washed, the insides clean
He's ready to leave your memory
He doesn't want to be alone
So from bar to bar he starts to roam
He'll buy a drink or maybe two
and then he'll start forgetting you
No longer thoughts of you are grown
He'll fall apart when he gets home

So he tips the glass and chugs it down
and buys himself another round
The whiskey's dry, he holds it near
He drinks it up then starts on beer
The jukebox plays a lonesome song
and like a fool he sings along
His voice is slurred from the drink
But he doesn't care what people think
and maybe his thoughts are all wrong
But right now his worries are gone

He leaves that bar and drives again
Looking for a good time friend
Another bar, he sees the lights
He drives on into the night
He parks his truck beside some woods
and tries to exit, if he just could
But liquor's grabbed him by the ass
He can't move, he's one big mass
Does he care he knows he should
But life is good, good, good

So in the truck he sits and stares
and laughs at life without you there
He just can't think of what he's missin'
all the gals he could be kissin'
But here he sits, all hope is gone
of finding friends in which to bond
Tonight was fun, a battle fought
and thoughts of you, he soon forgot
Now he sees a drunken dawn
Billy's got his beer goggles on

**(Glosa)

A Spanish form invented by court poets in the 14th and 15th centuries. An opening quatrain, called a 'cabeza' is chosen from another poet. The glosa elaborates or 'glosses' on the quatrain with four ten line stanzas, their concluding lines taken consecutively from the quatrain and their sixth and ninth lines rhyming with the borrowed tenth