On a cabaret I sat
In the usual corner
Where you could always
Find me.
Misty eyed, sick and tired
Of the world that defines
You and me.
It doesn’t where we met
How we met
When we met.
I’m not even certain
If I’ll ever see you again.
As I stare at the bottom of the bottle
And sip the last drop
Of my whiskey.
The world turned hazy.
I made my way towards the door
And found myself chasing
Another you
Waking up
In someone else’ bed again.