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

One 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 observations"

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