Fill my glass
  of vintage
    pleasures,
  top it til the
bubbly overflows,
   as memoirs
    & recollections
    effervesce
     beyond lucid
         drunkenness,
   hungover midst
       an endless
         toasting of
            intoxicated
               sensibilities

My heart is like an old butterfly net
That has a gaping hole torn into it;
What it catches flutters at its leisure
And leaves surely with time, or with the wind,
Leaving my heart empty and I'm sorry
That I cannot keep the bubbly-ness here.
I've been broken; I try but I'm a fool,
Holding on to something I've never held.

Have you ever noticed the bubbly ones
The life of the party
Is usually a tragic one
The one with the sad past
The one who has nothing to live for
But everything at once

Sometimes, if someone told me I lived in Candyland,
I'd agree because my music is so bubbly,
My outfit is so bright,
And my disposition is ecstatic.  Frankly.