The thing about you
is that you’re pathetic, too!
Forgive me, I’ve had a few.

Five drinks in you start to spew,
"I think it’s true,
the thing about you

that left me no one to live up to."
I should have said what we both knew:
"Forgive me, I’ve had a few."

Instead I send a needle through,
by means makeshift voodoo,
the things about you

that drown me in a root beer brew:
those ******* eyes of fizz and warmth and Xanadu
and please forgive me, I’ve had a few.

So, I hex you in that way I do
when I didn’t ask to hear your view:
"WELL THE THING ABOUT YOU–

Forgive me, I’ve had a few."