I sit outside
Gazing up at the sky
I find myself wondering if there's even a way
To get this last week to sip bourbon
Just so it'll be too drunk to find its way home
And in its intoxicated judgement it'll choose to stay
Add on a few more days to this death sentence
Just a few more sunsets is all I want
A few more sips of your laugh to get me tipsy
If I followed the curved road of your shoulder blades
Would it get me back to the beginning of june?
As to avoid the emerald colors of prancing fall
Who will soon give way to swooning winter
With its gusts of cold love and bitter affection