you'd promised so much
as the bottle sank lower
and you'd told me so little
about how we should go slower
in the fast lane, we're flying
towards the destination, we're dying
for change and for certainty, uncertain
for life, love, longevity, determined
there's nothing you'll find at the bottom of a bottle
except regret, uncertainty, and empty promises
to linger throughout the morning, the afternoon, and into the depth of the evening.
they're still creating drunkenness and fright, delight, and depth as i sink deeper into another.