Betsy

Betsy

Thursday, March 19, 2015

whiskey sonnet #728 the closest, the furthest

i've really known it all along
you'd needed more of someone
when you came knocking on my heart
asking, "is this thing on?"
bring me whiskey and a glass
and the bourbon in my flask
i've got some irish in a sack
scotch warmed in my grasp
it's hard when you ask
"why all i see is you back?"

all you see is words
all i see is words

baby you should be gone
out there loving someone
but really, move on
the fuck from my face
while i'm writing your song
i know my temper is haste
and i can speak out of place
the whiskey knows without you
the whiskey knows alone

all you see is words
all i see is words



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