We could sit around,
Like any Friday night,
Making empty promises,
Of staying around this time.

But I stopped drinking,
When the scotch started,
To taste like you.

But you were so seductive,
When you touched your lip to mine,
And asked me if I wanted,
One more drink before the war.

So I started drinking,
And I tasted you on my skin,
While you held me tightly,
And slowly let me in.

I bounced around your rib cage,
And you held tightly to my heart.
I must have said the wrong things,
Because soon you were gone.

I should have stopped drinking,
Long before the scotch,
Began to taste like you.

But you were so insistent,
And you know I can't deny,
Any of your pleasures,
On any Friday night.