The speaker begins stuck. Faced with a "painted sea," an image that feels flat and unreal, they wonder what could even be written. Their first idea is a letter that would take tomorrow back, which suggests regret, or a wish to undo something that hasn't happened yet or has only just happened. Then the poem swerves. They sat, drank until drunk, and talked foolishly, as if the letter were set aside for something easier.
The question "How to change?" sits alone and sounds genuinely uncertain. The answer that follows is a little too quick: "I drink drink drink." The repetition feels like a habit, almost a chant. The speaker claims drinking puts them "out of order" in the name of liberty, which turns disorder into a kind of freedom. Being "king for a day" is grand and temporary at once, and the phrase hints at irony. The mood is restless and wry, with a thin layer of regret beneath the bravado.