Jester song at twilight

I drank from,
The vessel with the pestle,
not the chalice from the Palace .
I drank the brew that was not true.
In my land of malice,
the chalice can not save Alice -
this I knew,
Maybe if I'd supped ...
the jug from the pub..
and not the vessel with the pestle -
I'd not feel the rub,
nor want to bang my head
with ballast,
When the world is callus
there's little you can do.. 
poor Alice.