I'm a bit tipsy on your hair,
Your grey eyes,
Or perhaps the way you play with it, your gaze,

I'm tipsy on life,
I only seem to think straight,
When I'm tip
sy.

Maybe I'll stop so
on, it's rushing to m
y head,

No, wait.

The more I think, the more my head swirls,
Maybe I can keep it together
Long enough.

And then we can run away,
And be tipsy,
On our smiles.

We'll s
ee tomorr
wo.