I look up at you in a crowded room and notice you're looking at me.  You quickly look away and I quickly write off the situation as an accident.

I'm never the right one, why is now any different.

I'll tell myself I don't have a chance.

My heart gets buried in a fake smile and fake laugh.

Play it cool you cool *******.

Truth is, I need this shot.  I take a shot to take a shot at you.  A cheap trick.

What is love drunk?  Am I love drunk?  Is that what love drunk is?

I could get drunk off you...I mean, I'm around you and all of a sudden I feel sick to my stomach, laced with butterflies and the next morning I'll wake up and regret taking too much of you...especially because now you're gone.  The thrill from last night is now a love hangover and you are simply last night.

and my expensive taste in fine wine will be the death of me.  Only the best will do for this selfish conceded alcoholic.  Red wine that matches your red lipstick.

BAC is way too high.  I'm drunk off you, your lips to mine.

I can't drive.  I'll have to stay tonight.

I'll slur words because I don't know what to say to you.

I miss you when you're not here.  My body shakes and shivers and I want you around.  I'll lie to myself and say I'm not going to think about you, and I won't text you and I won't tell you how I feel and I'll feel terrible about it and I'll want you around and I'll type out a message explaining everything and I'll just hope and pray my fingers are too cold from winter's crisp air and I hope they slip and accidentally hit the "send" button before I can delete the message...

But that never happens...So I'll take another shot of you and hope I don't get wasted again.