Dipsomaniac, detect the Sipsmith
Sill fresh on my lips
And move toward the danger that you
Oh Miss Misbehaver,
Drown your sorrows in my
Oh, how with every breath I take (and make)
You lose yourself in the petroleum
Mist… haze… fog…
Leapfrog your abstinence and give in to your urges!
Add fuel to the fire!
Moth to the flame!
I’ll happily take the blame.
And if every green bottle should accidentally fall,
My heart of glass should be enough to replace them all.