Lone and Level

Around the massed decay, nothing remains
But pride, so we fill ourselves up on pride:
Look on our mighty works! What else beside
Holds so much promise? I have had chilblains,
Exhausted my poor bladder, filled the drains,
Gone legless drinking ale, my brain freeze-dried,
And soaked my liver till my soul was fried.
An empty pride leaves particoloured stains.

The sand is in my pockets, in my shoes;
We desert travellers know how to drink
(Tea, whiskey, milk, whey, cabbage juice, and ink),
Sing best when we've been overwhelmed by booze,
But also value silence, and a snooze.
Proud as I am, I don't know how to think.