Confession - Minded

I'm in a mood for confessions,
To talk myself out to the end.
Maybe, pick up a bottle
And pay a visit to friends?

Here, friends, is all that I lived for !
Let your judgement be fair.
Don't turn away, I beg you.
Here's all my soul laid bare.

All of this heartache and worry -
It's too much for one man to stand.
What's happening here, inside me
I myself cannot understand.

As if at a health commission
Naked I stand unashamed.
It's all up to your decision.
I'm not afraid of derision,
Of nothing am I afraid.

Enough, sir, of being frightened.
Here, my soul I undress.
Only not to encounter
An enemy while I confess.

To talk oneself out to the bottom -
It's like stepping into a fire.
Only to finish with loneliness,
Somehow get out of its mire.

Perhaps I'll withstand it safely.
And not burn up in the flame,
And just as at that commission,
"Fit for service !" To whom ?
They will proclaim.