I don’t miss the liquor or the burning in my throat
This hangoverless headache hasn’t left in weeks
My tongue is dry, but it misses you not the spirits
The taste of a bottle I havent had a drop from
Pervades my thoughts through out the day.
I’d burn the whole barroom shelf just to have you.
Favorite of my unhealthy obsessions, untouchable
Out of reach, unable to get myself addicted
You’re the muse I can’t see, the fantasy I miss
A fairy tale, with a different ending then my happiness.