Fermented Love

Whether alcohol or kind souls, she cannot help but to abuse.

She’s been poisoning her liver,
She’s been poisoning my heart,
She’ll be my Cirrhosis in the end,
And my Antabuse to start.
Like a serving, stiff, of whiskey,
she likes me ’cause I’m strong
but like her servings, stiff, of whiskey
she will miss me when I’m gone.

Running tabs and running out,
excuses so insidious;
When it’s time to pay it back
She will see that she’s an idiot.
Now without a liver,
and without another heart,
she must find another donor,
from the bottom of the chart.

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