On a cabaret I sat In the usual corner Where you could always Find me. Misty eyed, sick and tired Of the world that defines You and me. It doesn’t where we met How we met When we met. I’m not even certain If I’ll ever see you again. As I stare at the bottom of the bottle And sip the last drop Of my whiskey. The world turned hazy. I made my way towards the door And found myself chasing Another you Waking up In someone else’ bed again.