I don't understand,
Please explain it to me,
This taste on your lips,
I've now tasted times three.

Three pairs of soft lips,
All sharing this taste,
Each slightly different.
Yet perfectly laced.

With poison so deadly.
The effects are years long
Giving me plenty of time.
To think where I went wrong.

If love is a game,
Im begging to lose.
I'm searching for answers.
In this bottle of booze.

This bottle doesn't reply,
Or share what it thinks.
It cares nothing of love.
Or how much that I drink.

It covers the taste,
Of those sour three lips.
Which shattered my heart.
Into a thousand and three bits

It's simply a pillow,
On which I rest my head.
When im a little to drunk.
To walk to my own bed.

It may not be soft,
Or warm like those lips.
But it tells me the truth.
Unlike your secrets that slip.

 
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