i used to drink whiskey by the bottle
(and god knows i miss that taste)
you still remind me of cracked bar tops
and bad games of pool and
when i hear that southern rock
i long for broken juke boxes and beer stained rooms
(and i think of you)
i was bar-scarred before i met you
(thought i saw them marks on you too)
but you don't have that same touch of soul and blues
that my restless mind has grown used to
then i hear you laugh and it tastes like cold beer
on a Saturday afternoon
and i figure it's worth knowin' you,
my friend,
but i got gun-smoke stickin' around
instead of spilt liquor on wobbly bar stools
(and i still ain't made a thing of me yet)
i used to smoke alone on those late nights
(you know i ain't the partyin type)
now you know i miss that burning sting
and them shady barrooms
with someone a little like you
but you don't say my name
(like you used to)
and i guess that's all right
i got enough to drink on my own
anyway
and a few more cigarettes
to last me a few more long nights
well, i won't say your name
(like i used to)
and i'll play them songs that don't make me
think of you
YOU ARE READING
Dysphoria
Poesía"I dreamt I grew roots and sunk into deep earth, Where mud became my skin and dampened grains freckled my surface, I opened my mouth wide for the sprouting branches Leaf-speckled limbs And sunflowers blossomed from my eyes, Sunlight bled in waves, w...
