Jumped off from the name of a well-loved beer, to crying in it.
Between a two-hearted woman, and Bell's Two-Hearted Ale.
Whichever one don't kill me, will likely land me in jail.
Broken love's my downfall, leaving just a raging thirst,
Betrayal or the bottle, I don't know which is worst.
Everything in moderation, the wise folks always say,
Started off quite moderate when I woke up today.
Moderate turned extreme, whe she said our love had died,
Now I'm draining these bottles, to fill the emptiness inside.
I thought "forever" was bound up in the words we said,
"Until something better" seems to be what she read.
Don't know how to forgive that, not sure that I should try.
It's easier to sit here and drink that tap dry.
Hey, bartender, won't you pour another round,
My new friends are as thirsty as my soul.
Don't know any answers, but I do know that I've found
Misery craves company in its hole.
FAWM 2020 #5. Copyright (c) 2020, Tres Seaver