I was rocked out of my mind.
I was smiling drunkenly in some bar,
enjoying my alcoholic haze.
It was Thursday night, and lots of chicks were on the dance floor.
I was high on reefer and booze.
It was good to be alive,'cause I was young and wild.
I had my groove "thang" on.
The strobe lights were flashing to the music.
Fog machines rolled out the ethereal stuff.
The beat of the bass was pounding in my head.
I was happy until some big, sadistic guy stood in front of me.
He smiled his sardonic smile, and I went cold with fear.
He grabbed my beer mug, and hit me in the head with it.
Blood ran into my eyes.
Everything got blurry.
Immediately, the bouncers in the joint were all over him.
A nice waitress cleaned my wound with a clean bar towel.
It looked worse than it was, so the top of my head didn't require stitches.
The cops were there in five minutes.
Everything seemed to move so fast.
They brought me to the street, where they had my assailant in handcuffs.
He was in tears, head down...begging me not to press charges against him.
I was angry, but felt sorry for him.
I thought to myself, "What good would it do to mess up this guys life?"
I told the cops to let him go.
They really wanted to book him.
They kept prodding me, but I held firm.
That was forty-two years ago.
I never regreted my decision.